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[RWS-131] A Family Saga, Vol. 1 by F. T. Hemmingway

RWS-131 A Family Saga, Vol. 1 by F. T. Hemmingway

Chapter 1

The knowing, wise, old eyes of the school nurse regarded the lovely,
auburn-tressed girl who sat across the desk from her. The complaint was
a common one; the girl was suffering some faintness with her menstrual
period. Ordinarily, Ernestine would have sent the afflicted girl home
with instructions for bed rest for the remainder of the day, but she was
stopped in mid-reach for the special form excuse she would have to fill
out. The girl had just said that she didn't want to go home, asking
instead, that she be allowed to stay in the Health Office until the
close of school.

"Is there some special reason, Charity, something that would keep you
from staying at home ...?" the nurse asked.

Charity Scott glanced up into the kindly face, momentarily, then
concentrated her gaze on the pen-holder on the desk as an attack of
dizziness reminded her of her reason for this visit to the school's
Health Office. She didn't know exactly how she should answer Mrs.
Keaton's question. It was difficult to put into words; she just knew
that it would be best if she did no? go home. With an effort, she began,
"M-My dad's at h-home ... he's sick and stayed h-home from w-work ...
t-today ..." she stumbled.

"Is he quite ill?" It was a leading question.

The girl was quiet for a moment, not answering. How should she answer?
How can a young girl put it into words?

Ernestine Keaton, School Nurse, knew the reason without asking. She had
heard it all before, many times, from many girls. She flipped through
the Emergency Card file to extract Charity Scott's card signed by both
parents. She knew the answer to her question, but she asked "Is Gabriel
Scott your real father?"

Most of the time, Ernestine mused, it was stepfathers who molested the
young girls, but she had known of many cases where the girl's real
father had had sexual interests in their own, flesh- and-blood
daughters. The unnatural, incestuous lust revulsed and disgusted the
nurse, but there was little she could do about those situations, most of
the time, it was too late. Dear God! Here's another lovely young girl,
exposed to Heaven only knows what! ... A drunken, sex-maniac of a
father, no doubt ... peeping and pinching .... waiting for his chance to
... to debase her ... ruin her! God! Why isn't there some way we can
help ... before it's too late? She had to know. She probed a little
further.

"Are you afraid ... of your father, Charity ...?" she asked, "... afraid
to be alone with him ... afraid he might ... do something to you ...?"

Charity's face flamed. She looked up in disbelief at the school nurse
who had dared to say what she had not even wanted to think.

"That's crazy, Mrs. Keaton ... Why sh-should I-I ...?" Tears welled into
her lovely grey-green eyes, and she looked away, out of the window,
across the sprawling campus, quiet now after the change of class.

Empathetically, Ernestine's heart reached out to the girl. She knew for
sure, now, and she understood. Softly, she said, "I'm sorry, Charity.
Please forgive an old lady for prying ... and I do understand ... and
want to help you ... if you need help."

"It won't be necessary. I have an extra cot ... just go on in the next
room, there, lie down and rest. Stay until final dismissal."

Ernestine watched the girl as she left her office and went, obediently,
into the separate room where several cots were provided for the girls'
use. She sighed, resignedly. Her mind was in a whirl. Dear God! How had
Mrs. Keaton known ...? How had she guessed ...? I didn't tell her ...!
Daddy's really never ... done anything ... but ... Oh, God ... the way
he looks at me ... sometimes! I know he must be thinking some awful
thoughts ... about me! Thinking about sex-things ... maybe about things
he'd like to do to me! Oh, God! It's just horrible ... living in our
house ... with him! But what can I do ...? Dear God ... What can I do?

* * *

And Don knew that Jack Roberts would be there. He was always there,
except for the times when he got busted and was hauled off to Juvenile
Hall for possession of drugs. Somehow Jack was always clean. The fuzz
couldn't pin anything on him, even when they put on the big crunch.

Jack was sitting on a bench at one of the outdoor tables, a
stringy-haired blonde sitting next to him, hanging on his every word. He
was a heavy dude, for sure, as far as the chicks were concerned. Looking
up, he saw Don approaching and said, "Split, Baby ... here comes a dude
looking for a hit ... like, you know, bread first, meat later.

Don sat down, giving the mini-skirted chick a long look at her cute,
little behind, the skirt barely covering it, as she twitched away to
join a knot of girls, giggling about some confidence just exchanged.

"You know how much ... put it in the saddle-bag on your hog!" Jack said.

"It's already there!"

"About ten minutes, then," Jack told him. "But I don't know why in hell
I should take a chance on being busted for ten lousy roaches? Christ!"

"Shit! I can't buy it by the ounce, yet!" Don flared.

Jack glanced around apprehensively, then glared at Don. "Back off, Man!
There's liable to be narcs around ...!" He turned to leave, but after
one step, he came back and went on. "No more, after this, Don, it's got
to be by the ounce!"

Don watched him as he mounted his big Japanese motorcycle, kicked it
into roaring life and rode away up the broad avenue. Jack, he knew,
didn't live in that direction, but then, a big man like Jack wouldn't be
foolish enough to keep the stuff at home. Idly, he wondered who Jack was
working for, because he was pretty sure the pusher was handling hard
stuff, as well as marijuana. He knew the kid was making big bread, and
he was envious, but at the same time, he was aware of the risk Jack was
taking in furnishing him with the ten roaches he had ordered. The fuzz
could bust you for that as easily as for a whole kilo.

Don went to the order window and bought a large Coke and a bag of fries.
He was munching them when the girl Jack had been talking to when he
arrived came over and sat down next to him. She took a piece of his
French Fried potato, put it in her mouth and sucked it in, little by
little. He watched in fascination, aware of the symbolism, and his penis
jerked upright in his pants.

She scribbled a telephone number on a paper napkin and thrust it at him,
"Get me on the horn, Don! It might be ... like, you know ... a real
thing ..." She was gone.

He remembered seeing her around Perry High School. She was a Junior,
too, like himself. He watched her walk away and decided he would like to
get to know her better. It would be easy if Jack didn't have a prior
claim on her. He finished off the fries and drank his Coke. Man! She's
on it!

A few moments later, Jack roared into the parking lot, parked Don's
cycle and ambled over. He sat down.

"Same place ..." Jack told him. "and remember, only in ounces from now
on!"

"I'll remember!" Don said, getting up. "See you around!"

He mounted his motorcycle, started it and headed for home. As he roared
along the avenue, his long hair blowing in the wind, he spotted her
walking along the sidewalk. He would know her anywhere, her auburn hair,
the way she walked.

Charity returned her brother's smile. "Sure, if you promise to go slow,
I don't want my hair to blow all over!"

She climbed behind him, straddling the cycle saddle, exposing her firm
young thighs as her skirt hiked up. The vision of those lovely columns
was not lost on Don Scott. He thought his sister had the most beautiful
figure he had ever seen. Many times, lately, he had spied on her in
various stages of undress ... and last week, he had caught her
completely nude when he had walked into her room without knocking. She
had been flustered, covered herself in embarrassment and shooed him out
of the room, but not before he had gotten his eyes full.

Don rode slow, enjoying the feel of her arms around his middle and the
twin mounds of her luscious breasts seemed to be boring holes into his
back.

Shit! Chicks like Marcy are like nothing ... compared to. Sis! She's
really got it ... and all in the right places, too! ... But damn it!
She's still my sister! Christ! If she wasn't I'd really want to swing
with her! Man! She's something else!

He allowed his hand to drift down to her knee and run up her thigh a few
inches while he steered the cycle with one hand. Charity slapped his
hand away, and she cringed, inwardly, at the salacious suggestiveness of
his caress. She put her mouth next to his ear and shouted over the roar
of the wind, "That's not nice, Donnie! Stop it!"

"I can't help it if you've got nice legs!"

"You can keep your hand to yourself, little brother!"

"Don bristled. "Little brother, hell! I'm almost as big as Dad!"

"I don't care ... I don't want you to do that! It isn't right, and you
know it!"

"I'll do what the hell I want to!" he said, defiantly.

"You do ... and I'll tell Mom!"

"Oh, Christ! Here we go, again!" he mimicked. "I'll tell Mom! Don't
sweat it, though, Sis, because I'm going to split one of these day. I've
had it! It's the street for me!"

"You're going to ... run away?"

"Soon's I get a little bread ... I'll be long gone!"

"Why?" she asked. "Anyway ... you've got to graduate from high school!"

"School! Crap, Sis ... there's nothing for me at school! Only the
chicks! Man! Some of them come on strong ... like, you know ... they
swing! Groovy."

Don left the avenue and turned into their street. Reaching the house, he
turned into the driveway and parked the motorcycle. Charity clambered
down and went into the house, feeling the dislike deep in her of the
shabbiness the whole place exuded.

She passed through the living room, where her father sat, glassy-eyed,
nursing a can of beer and watching a newscast on the portable television
set. He sat, heavily, wearing only an undershirt and tan work pants, his
paunch hanging over his belt, slightly. He had kicked off his shoes. A
three-day growth of beard darkened his jowls.

Gabriel Scott's eyes lighted up as she came in, responding with a grunt
to her airy greeting. His eyes roamed over her figure, his head twisting
to follow her path through the living room and dining room to the door
of her bedroom that opened up off the dining area. He turned back to the
T.V. newscaster, only after she had disappeared into the sanctuary of
her bedroom. Christ! She gets prettier every day! No matter what they
say ... those short skirts sure show a lot! Damn! ... And she's my
daughter ... turning into quite a woman!

Outside, in the driveway, Don reached into the saddlebag on his cycle
and extracted a neatly wrapped package, the ten marijuana cigarettes he
had bought from Jack Roberts. With trembling fingers he stowed them
safely in his shirt pocket. Shit! He hadn't liked that scene with Jack,
but a guy had to have some of his own! He had to have something to share
... and he had a place to share it .... and some kids to rap with. Then,
there was the sex ... with chicks that were with it. That's all there
is, man! That's all there is ... and now there was Marcy! He checked his
pocket. Yes, he still had her telephone number. He'd have to give her a
buzz on the horn ... like, tonight! man! She really comes on strong!

He went into the house through the back door to his bedroom, converted
from part of the back porch. It was a tiny room, hardly large enough to
contain the single bed and a small student desk. He hid the roaches,
suppressing a desire to burn one, right then, knowing that he had to
save them for later. Stretching out on his bed, he retrieved a
pornographic novel he had hidden under his mattress and soon lost
himself in the lurid descriptions of natural and unnatural sexual
athletics.

As he read, the explicit descriptions stimulated him, and his penis came
up to rigid, erect attention, his hand going down, unconsciously, to
massage and caress it. His thoughts drifted to the girls he knew, but
soon the vision of his sister pushed the others aside, as somehow, the
forbidden became the most desirable in his mind. Charity? Christ!

Retreating to the door of the motel room and stuffing the money in her
purse, Dorothy Scott said, "Damn it! I told you when I came I couldn't
stay all night ... It's just impossible!

She avoided another lunge of the drunken traveling salesman she had
agreed to meet after her stint as a cocktail waitress, made it out the
door and headed rapidly for her car. The slam of the door behind her as
she fled told her there would be no more difficulty from him. Thank God!

Ordinarily, she tried to avoid the real drunks, but this one had been
fairly sober, looked clean and decent, a man who had been on the road
for two weeks ... and needed a woman, baby. She had met him at ten
thirty, after work, went to his motel with him, where he broke out a new
fifth of V.O., forcing her to drink with him before the bout on the bed.
Ugh! I hate to have drunks mauling me!

She had done her best for him, giving him his money's worth, using her
mouth to bring him to a fully hardened condition, then allowing him to
slobber his lips over her nakedness, hurting her lush, white breasts
with his strong hands; finally, ineptly trying to use his tongue on her,
before he rammed his short but thick penis between her legs and
jack-hammered away into her vagina until he came, after long minutes of
exertion, and collapsed on top of her. She had had to push his
slumbering weight off of her in order to get dressed; it was already
nearing midnight, and she always tried to be home by then to allay
Gabe's suspicions.

The salesman had awakened just as she finished dressing and insisted
that she stay with him all night. He was willing to pay, he had told
her. She had refused, politely, but he had become abusive. It was then
she had made her hasty exit. God! I just couldn't do it! His money
looked awfully tempting, though! But I'm still a wife, and mother,
first! I couldn't ever let Gabe find out ... but I'd die, I think, if
Charity or Donnie ever found out what their mother is doing ...! And
Dear God, it's only for the money, money to get a few of the little
extras, extras that make life just a little better for all of us. I
wouldn't do it, if there was enough money! Heavens only knows when
Gabe'll be able to get a job, and keep it.

Dottie drove home through the almost deserted streets of Redfern, past
grand old houses of an earlier time, most of them beginning to fall
apart with abundance of time and decay. The huge trees, on either side
of the broad avenue reached their limbs across the street to each other,
creating a feeling in her as though she were driving through a long
tunnel. The cooling effect of the trees, in the day time was pleasant,
and the effect of the arching trees was different. It was at night, the
eerie feeling overcame her.

She turned into her driveway and noted that Donnie's big motorcycle was
not there. It was slightly after midnight, and she was irritated that he
was not home. She had told him, repeatedly, that he must be home before
eleven thirty, but more and more, it seemed, he'd been staying out later
and later. And I really don't know where he is ... Or who he's with! I
hardly ever see my children ... Anymore. They're gone off to school
before I get up, and they're out, somewhere when I come home at night.
No, it's Donnie that's out, Charity's always here, at least, when she
does go out on a date she's got enough sense to come home at a
reasonable hour.

She let herself in the front door. Her husband was seated before the
television set watching a movie re-run. He had made no move to open the
door, barely glancing up when she came in and responding only with a
grunt to her greeting and brush of a kiss. He took a swig from his
ever-present can of beer, looked up at her, finally, as she turned to go
into their bedroom that opened off the living room and said, "Out kind
of late, ain't you?"

"I had to work overtime," Dottie lied. "One of the girls bad Some car
trouble ... and couldn't get to work on time."

"Oh ...?" He was satisfied.

"Did you see about that job at the mobile home factory?"

"Yeah, they filled it already. No jobs available, they said ...."

"And the dairy job across town ..."

"Didn't make it ..." Gabe growled, "ran into a couple of buddies and
drank a few beers. Swapped a few yarns ..."

She went into their bathroom, musing that they didn't call her husband
'Gabby' for nothing. He was just that. When he sat in a bar with some of
his old crones, the hours flew away from him as he talked and told
stories. Yes, he was well-known in the town as drunken Gabby Scott,
ne're do well, unable to hold a job for more than a few months, a man
who was willing to let his wife support him and their two children. He
was a real mess, and Dottie wondered why she continued to put up with
him. If I'd had any sense I would have divorced him ten years ago! ...
But, here I am still married to him, slaving to keep us together as a
family, and I take on men on the side, for a little extra cash, acting
the whore, and trying to be respectable at the same time! Dear God, what
else could I do? I guess I love him, still ... I did love him, I think,
when we were first married, or maybe it's just blind loyalty ... loyalty
to the children ... because I thought they needed a father ...

She turned off her thoughts about her family as she prepared for bed.
She was tired, physically and emotionally. She had risen at about ten in
the morning, did her housework, reported for work at two thirty in the
afternoon ... and afterwards the hour and a half she had spent with the
salesman: That had really done her in. His sex techniques had only
served to arouse her, to be left dangling, emotionally, when he had cum,
the end result being frustration. Remembering the sex act, she decided
she had better wash herself, even though she had insisted, in spite of
his grumbling, that he use some protection. Thank God, I've been lucky
so far, no disease ... or pregnancy! ... And to think how often I take
the risk! God! is it all worth it?

The bathroom connected with Charity's bedroom. On impulse, Dottie opened
the door a crack and looked in on her firstborn, a beautiful, young girl
budding into young womanhood. Charity lay in her bed, sound asleep, a
sweet, serene expression on her face, her upraised arm had brought a
mounding breast up from under the sheet, its contour under her thin
nightgown promising a fullness that was also her mother's. Her face was
framed in a glory of auburn hair, and Dottie could think of only one
word to describe her daughter in peaceful sleep: Innocence.

... And as she watched, a fleeting grimace crossed Charity's face. It
was an expression of pain. Dottie guessed instantly. It was time for her
daughter's menses to begin. She had remembered marking it, secretly, on
the calendar. She didn't know why she did it, but perhaps she didn't
expect the innocent to remain innocent. It was, she realized, a cynical
attitude, a fear that corruption begets corruption ... or simple guilt
on her part, the hypocrisy of the lie she, herself, was living making
her suspicious ... almost paranoid concerning her daughter's chastity.
She told herself that she was only being protective. Kids these days
seem to have lost any sense of decency! They're reaching out for sex
long before they're emotionally ready for it! Sex and drugs! It's just
horrible!

She finished her bath and came out into the bedroom, a towel wrapped
about her. Heading for the dresser to get a clean nightgown, she was
aware that Gabe lay on the bed in his shorts, the bulge of an erection
throbbing up against the fly of the thin cloth.

"Dottie, you got a ten-spot you can let me have?"

She hesitated. "No, I'm saving to get our couch upholstered, and I've
got just enough, now," she told him. "I've already picked out the ..."

"God damn it!" he roared. "I ask you for ten, and I get ten reasons why
I can't have it!"

He came off the bed, bounding over to her, moving fast for his
corpulence. "And how about a piece of ass, or are you too tired .... or
too sleepy?" His hands reached to rip the towel from her body, revealing
her lovely nudity to him. Instantly, he crushed her in a bear-hug, his
lips seeking hers.

She turned her face aside and said. "Please, Gabe, not tonight! I am
dead tired, And ..."

CRACK!

His open palm caught her across the face. "Bitch!" he growled. "I ought
to give you something to remember!" He drew back his hand to strike,
again.

"P-Please, Gabe, don't hit me again ..." she begged, tears welling into
her eyes from the pain and humiliation. "I-I'll go to bed w-with you,
a-and you can have the ten you want ..."

Chapter 2

At about seven, that evening, Don Scott had dialed Marcy's number. Her
voice came down the wire to him, knowing and throaty, "Oh, Don ... I was
wondering if you'd call."

"You know it ... like you came on strong, this afternoon!"

"Like what ..."

"Like you make the motions ... send up smoke signals ..."

"You curious ...?" she queried.

"You know it ...!"

"Curious enough to find out ... for sure ... Don?"

"Like groovy! Where?"

"My house," she said. "My parents have split!" She gave him her address,
over near the college.

"I'm on my way "

"Bring some bread, Don!"

He thought she was joking. "You putting me on?"

"No, man! I said to bring bread ... and that's it! Otherwise no party!"
She hung up on him.

"CHRIST!" He spat at the dead phone. The little bitch! God damned little
whore! Christ ... And I thought she was interested in me!

Don looked in his wallet; he had a ten-dollar bill he was saving. He had
been planning to use it for the next school dance scheduled for the
following Friday. Oh, well, maybe I can earn some more before then ...
or sell something to get a little extra bread! Christ! I've got to see
Marcy, though.

He went back into his bedroom; his search turned up another 75 cents in
change. He'd have enough for a couple of packs of cigarettes. An
inspiration struck him and on impulse he carried it out. Carrying the
ten-dollar bill was foolish, he decided; he should have two fives,
instead.

Going back through the kitchen, dining room and living room, he went
into his parents' bedroom and rummaged in a drawer where he knew his
mother kept some cash.

Charity was watching a television show and doing some math homework, at
the same time. She saw Donnie go into the front bedroom. Curious, she
got up and followed him into the room. She saw him with bills in his
hand.

"Donnie! What are you doing in mom's drawer?"

Startled, he looked up and grinned, "Just changing a ten for two fives
..."

"It looked like you were ... well, taking something ..." she accused.

"Stealing ...?" He was incredulous. "Not me that's not my bag!" he
assured.

He put the money back in the drawer and put the two fives in his wallet.

Coming out through the door he gave her a pat on the behind, a
caressingly affectionate pat that was definitely not brotherly. Charity
twisted aside to avoid any other contact.

"Donnie! Ugh! How many times do I have to tell you ... to keep your
hands to yourself?"

He mimicked, reciting, "Keep your hands to yourself, Donnie .... or I'll
tell mom! Christ! You're not with it, Sis! You don't know where it's at!
I'll bet you wouldn't say cock ... even if you had a mouthful!"

"Shut up, Donnie! I don't want you to use those words around me!" She
was angry, instantly. She huffed off to sit on the couch, ignoring him.

"You'll learn them ... sooner or later!" he taunted; then he chanted,
"Shit! Cock! Cunt! Fuck!"

Charity covered her ears with both hands. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop
it!"

"Never!" He went on, "Ass! Prick! Cum! Suck!"

She hurled her math book at him. It missed. "Shut up ... Donnie ... or
I'll tell dad!"

"What'd he do ...? That old drunk! Fuck him!" Donnie roared. Then,
"Where is he?"

"Out!" she said. "Out to get some more beer, I think!"

"That figures!"

"You get out, too ... and leave me alone!"

"When I'm damned good and ready! I'll split when I feel like it!"

She was on her feet and stormed into her own room, slamming the door
behind her and hurling a final word over her shoulder, "Foul mouth!"

Don laughed aloud. Christ! She was pretty when she's angry. He didn't
know what had possessed him to taunt her, but he had enjoyed watching
her as she had burned with anger, her expressive face mirroring her
every emotion; in addition, the way she had twitched her hips, her
tapering, white thighs showing under her miniskirt as she had flashed
past him produced a pang of pure lust in him. Damn! What a beautiful
chick his sister was! Man! She comes on strong! What a swinging chick
she's going to be! Too bad she's my sister ... all that nice cunt going
to waste! Shit!

Going into his own room, behind the kitchen, he dug out the ten roaches
he had bought that afternoon, extracted two and re- wrapped them,
carefully, stowing them in his shirt pocket ... just in case Marcy would
want to burn one with him. The other eight hand-rolled cigarettes went
back into their secret hiding place. He was ready to go. He went out the
back door, walked around the house, climbed onto his big bike and kicked
the engine into a full- throated roar.

He roared down the avenue, staying well within the speed limits. The
last thing he wanted was for one of the local pigs to bust him for
speeding. They might try to shake him down. If they did ... they'd find
the two marijuana cigarettes, for sure. Then, they'd have him for
possession ... and he'd wind up in Juvie ... and that's the last place,
man! The last!

Arriving at the address Marcy had given him, he found the house to be
one of the older ones in town; however this grand old house was not
falling into decay. It had been well cared for over the years, and when
Marcy invited him in, he saw that it had been remodeled and thoroughly
modernized. The name on the mailbox intrigued him: It was one of the
oldest and respected names in Redfern. A Lunceford had been one of the
founding fathers of the city, and the Lunceford name figured prominently
in cultural and political, as well as business aspects of the community.

"You a Lunceford ...?" he asked.

"Yeah ... like old Isaac Lunceford was my great grandpa ..." she said,
flippantly, "but don't let it get to you! I don't! All that silly old
crap turns me off!"

Don knew that his family had come to Redfern not long after its
founding. He remembered that they had lived in such a house as this,
further out on the edge of town in the orange groves. Somehow, his
father had lost the house and the grove, and the family had had to move
into town to take up residence in the shacky house in which they now
lived. He was too young to know and understand all of the reasons. There
was a bankruptcy. They were evicted. His father couldn't seem to hold a
job. He was drunk most of the time, anyway. Don's mother had been
supporting them for several years. It was all a big mess, for try as he
might, he couldn't warm up to his father, give him the respect a son
should give a father. Christ! The old drunk!

"What kind of wheels you got, Don?"

"My bike ..." he answered. "Why?"

"I thought you might have a groovy car we could ride in."

"Sorry ..."

"Well, you know ... like if a guy wants to make it with a chick, he's
got to have a car!" she explained.

"Yeah ... Well ..."

"Houses are too risky! We got to stay here ... and my folks could come
home ... and well, you know, there'd be a big crunch ... but in a car
... Man! It's groovy ... nothing but privacy ... if it's fixed up right
..."

Don understood, now, and suddenly, his big Japanese motorcycle was
nothing but real kid stuff. He had to have a car! Christ! No wonder he
hadn't been making it ... as often as he would like. It's the dudes with
the cars that are scoring, man!

"You better park it in the alley!" she told him.

"Right on!" he agreed and went to do as she suggested. He was elated.
She was practically inviting him to stay, although she had not said it
in so many words. Her meaning was clear enough to him.

Marcy Lunceford met him on the back walk, just inside the gate. It was
dark now, and she put an arm around him, snuggling close and led the way
to an old-fashioned, screen-enclosed pergola standing in deep shadows
under towering trees in a corner of the spacious back yard. He draped an
arm, carelessly over her shoulder and cockily allowed his hand to stray
down to a pouting hemisphere of firm young breast. Through the thin
material of her dress he caressed and gasped with acute pleasure to
discover that she wore no bra to confine them. The bud of her nipple was
firm and erect, burgeoning into the palm of his hand, tantalizingly.

"You dig that?"

"Like, wow ... you know ..." he said, carelessly.

They were in the pergola. She led him to a seat on a roll- around garden
lounge. It had a nice soft mattress on it, and he lay back, luxuriously,
on it. "Man! This is soft! Better than my pad." He reached for her.

She came easily into his arms, lying on top of him, their mouths
searching, finding, welding in a deep kiss, their tongues probing,
tasting and twining together. It was she who broke the kiss and asked,
"You got some grass?"
"Yeah ... you want to take a chance ... here?"

"It's plenty safe!" she affirmed.

"Nosy neighbors ..."

"They're like too fossilized to know what's with it."

Don broke out one of the roaches, lighted it and inhaled deeply, holding
it in his lungs as long as he could, passing the cigarette to her and
watching as she duplicated his actions. To be safe, he took a regular
cigarette from his pack, lit it, hoping that the odor of the burning
tobacco would cover the characteristic, burning-alfalfa smell of the
marijuana. They traded, puffed, inhaled, held breath, exhaling slowly,
allowing the narcotic smoke to work in them, its effect beginning slowly
and building, building, building, until time stood still and the beauty
of the night was magnified, every sound was heard ... and they were
all-seeing ... all being. There was only the beauty of now! This is
where it was! Everything was there in the smoke. The world was love ...
and love was everything, because they were young and healthy human
animals ... knowing all things ... and capable of doing all things. They
were the young invincibles! It was their right, indeed, their command to
love. "Love the world!" it said. "Love each other! Love me ..." it said,
"and I'll love you back!"

The roach burned down. He snuffed it out and re-wrapped the remaining
paper, ash, leaves and twigs, carefully, allowing none to escape him. It
was necessary to be this careful; investigating narcs could find even
one carelessly dropped particle. He put it safely in his pocket and
buttoned it; then, languidly, seeing Marcy, clearly, in all her glorious
beauty, he reached to the zipper on her dress, running it down her back
and the whisper of the tiny pieces of metal was loud in his ears, as
though a freight train had thundered through the quietly serene pergola.

She moved, helping him, standing to remove the dress over her head,
revealing the budding womanliness of her, instantly, as she wore nothing
under the dress. She was completely, gloriously naked .... and he saw
her as Athena, the goddess of love. Indeed, she was love, incarnate.

All love resided in her. Marcy was love!

Dancing a few steps away from him, she moved to unheard music, her body
shining alabaster, her long, raven hair swishing across her back, a few
locks straggling over her shoulders to fall into the cleavage of her
full, proud young breasts, her hips swaying, teasingly, back and forth,
in imitation of sexual movements. Her rounding and tapered thighs moved
with sure strength, and he watched the suppleness of her legs as they
moved.

Don had to have her. Christ! He had to have her now! His penis ached,
throbbingly, jerking against his pants, demanding release and relief.

He came off the couch and captured her in his arms to mash his mouth
down on hers, kissing her hard and brutal. She melted into his arms and
kissed him back with lips and tongue, searching deep into his mouth.
Suddenly, he abandoned her mouth, and he was kissing her breasts, taking
the nipples into his mouth, one by one, then moving down ... down ... he
kissed her belly, stopping to probe into her navel. Then, he was at the
vee of her loins, and he knelt to hold her around the hips while his
tongue pressured into the top of her warm femaleness to search for the
tiny bud of her clitoris in its warm little shrine of sex-flesh. He
found it alive and quivering under his tongue. He licked and she
exploded in rapture.

Inching backward, she leaned against a small table and spread her thighs
wider, standing in wide-spaced stance, her buttocks resting on the edge
of the table, half supporting her weight. Uncontrollably, her hands went
to either side of his head to guide his face between her open thighs and
encourage him. He used his tongue, hungrily, licking deep at her vaginal
slit, the sparse, youthful curls of her pubic mound tickling softly
against his lips. She pushed him away.

"Let's do it the easy way ... on the lounge." she whispered, hoarsely,
moving away from him.

Don got to his feet and followed her. She turned and reached for his
belt, opened it and zipped down the fly of his jeans. Then, she
unbuttoned his shorts to release his virile young cock into the night
air, the cooling wash of it over his sensate flesh a new and different
sensation. With hands on his shoulders she pushed him down flat on the
garden lounge and positioned herself upside down over him, her
glistening, coralline vagina inches over his face, her knees on either
side of his head, as she knelt over him, her own face only inches above
the hardened cock-flesh of him, spearing up into the air, massively
above him, its bulbous head waving excitedly like a battle standard in
the wind.

She lowered her loins slowly and teasingly to his mouth, and he used his
hands to spread the soft fleshy lips of her young pussy wide apart. He
clamped his mouth to the moist, now slightly pulsating mouth, the gentle
movements of its own muscular nibbling action apparent to him on his
lips pressed up deep between her open thighs, his tongue coming through
them, now, to taste and savor, then to thrust and swirl into her cuntal
opening, wildly.

The exquisite sensations in him, arcing in the nerves of his cock-head
as her mouth slipped warmly and wetly down over the sensitive, throbbing
flesh caused him to flex his hips to shove his member up to her. He
looked down the length of his body, straining to see in the semidarkness
through the arch of her breasts hanging down, soft and lush above his
hard, flat belly. He could see the nipples, hard and erect, like small,
ripe berries ready for picking. His cock was in her mouth, and she held
the shaft of it with one hand while the other gently stroked and
caressed his testicles in their soft wrinkled sac, below. Then, her lips
turned in to cover the sharpness of her teeth, her mouth began to slide
heatedly down his hardened length; down ... down ... down, encompassing
him, engulfing him, slowly and continuously, until he knew that she
would take it all the way back to her throat.

Don stared in utter disbelief as his thick, hard cock disappeared deeper
and deeper up into her mouth and throat, her voraciously sucking lips
working on him, suctioning him, as, inside her mouth, her tongue swirled
and laved him. He flipped. Christ! There was nothing like it! It was out
of this world! Out of sight .... and still going away!

Her smoothly undulating young pussy came down harder on his face,
reminding him of the mutual orality of the act, and he returned to the
hungry, moist opening with renewed effort, using his lips and tongue
both flow on the tiny erect bud between her legs. He sucked the tiny
female phallus up into his lips, holding it while his tongue licked and
caressed. He could feel the shock of it in her body, the gasping for
breath around his hardened rod.

Then, Don remembered the first and only other time he had experienced
oral sex. He had been at a pot party and was all toked up. Watching
another couple who had, uninhibitedly, kicked off the sex scene by
tearing off their clothes and making passionate love right in front of
everybody, he had gotten aroused almost to the point of ejaculation. He
had grabbed Betty Fowler, the youngest girl there. Even under the
influence of the grass she had smoked, she had been unwilling to fuck,
agreeing in stead to blow him, use her mouth to bring him to climax. She
had been inept, he knew now, but she had tried ... up to the point when
his big cock had begun to spurt his cum into her mouth. She had gagged
and made a big scene about it, causing everybody there to have a good
yuck at her expense.

... But Marcy ... Christ! She's an expert! She 's taking my whole cock
in her mouth! She'll probably swallow it ... too! She hasn't gagged yet
and my cock's halfway down her throat! Man! She really eats it ... like
it was an all-day sucker!

The building pressure in him told him that it would not be long. His
cock throbbed and ached for release, the acid-like burning sensation of
the held-back semen urging him to flex his hips, shoving his prick up
into her mouth to counter her up-and- down movements, fucking it deeper
and deeper into her oral cavern with the urgency of his youthful desire
to cum.

"Oh, Baby!" he moaned. "I'm ready to cum!" Her mouth moved on him faster
and with increasing pressure and suction, her cheeks hollowing in and
out, and a couple of times, she allowed her teeth to scrape along the
hardened length of him, eliciting a sharp pleasure-pain that caused him
to gasp aloud.

"Oh, Christ! That's the most ...!"

It was there for him! His big cock, in her slaving mouth, exploded,
spewingly, his semen, hot, white and viscous, spurting from the tip of
his cock-head deep up into her mouth and throat, forcing her to swallow,
voraciously. God! He came and came ... and came, his sperm jetting from
him in endless streams, it seemed to him. The sensations of release were
exquisite; the rapture of them causing a high whine of pleasure to come
from far down in his throat. Christ! She's pumping me dry!

As she licked and sucked at him and his jerking penis began to subside,
the waves of muscle-relaxing euphoria of sexual release left him
satiated, but he tried, manfully, to bring her, too, to climax, sucking
and licking at her wildly gyrating cunt above him. Damn! Why doesn't she
cum?

Events happened suddenly then. A light at the rear of the big old house
was snapped on, its cone of light reaching out into the spacious back
yard, but, fortunately, not out as far as the pergola where they lay in
illicit sexual embrace.

Don froze. His heart pounded. He was scared. Good God! "Wh-Who ...?" he
strangled.

"Oh, God!" Marcy gasped. "It's my folks!"

She scrambled off him, groping for her dress. She was thinking fast.
"I-I'll have t-to go in!"

"I've got to split!" He was in panic. Standing up, he pulled up his
shorts and pants, zipped the fly and cinched up his belt. He started for
the door.

Marcy was shrugging her dress down, smoothing it over her hips. She saw
him move toward the door. "No! Wait! I-I'll go in f-first! When the
light goes out ... split fast!"

He drew back into the shadows, trying to make himself invisible. Marcy
had more instructions for him.

"P-push your bike! D-Don't start it ... un-until you're out of the
a-alley!"

"Right!"

"Pay m-me!" she demanded.

"Wh-What ...? Now ...?"

"I-I told you t-to bring bread!"

"Marcy!" It was a high, female voice, strident and demanding.

"Coming ... Mom!" she called back, then, "Give!" she snapped at him, her
voice deadly.

Don fished out one of his fives and gave it to her. She didn't look at
it; she crumpled it in her hand and made for the screened door of the
pergola.

"See you around!" she said and was gone, walking toward the light at the
back door of her house.

"Marcy?! Where are you ...?" Her mother, again.

"Right here ... Mom!" Marcy said, with some irritation.

Don watched as she came into the light. It shone through the thin
material of her dress, showing her shapely legs. She might as well have
been nude. He would have enjoyed it more, if he hadn't been so
frightened. His heart was still pounding hard in his throat, and his
mouth was dry from the fear. Christ! I almost flipped!

As he watched her go up the back step, open the door and go into the
house, he had some second thoughts about having given her only a five.
She hadn't actually named a price, but he knew that ten dollars would
have been more like the going rate among the teen-age hustlers that
seemed to throng Perry High School. Establishment, he knew, would never
have believed the extent of the practice; the administration was blind
to it, either because they couldn't see it, or because they didn't want
to see it. The V.D. rate as reported regularly in the press was a good
indicator, but it was laid to promiscuous sex ... not to prostitution.

It's done, now! I should have laid the other five on her, but shit! I
was in a hurry ... and scared half to death! Anyway ... we had to split
... right in the middle of it! I could have fucked her in the cunt,
tonight ... if it hadn't been for her old lady coming home and breaking
up the party! Damn it!

He was still under the narcotic influence of the pot, but he could think
straight and his motor control of body was good, and as he waited for
what seemed eons of time, the light in the Lunceford back yard was
switched off.

"Damn!" he breathed. "About time!"

Slowly, he drifted out of the pergola and across the yard, sticking to
deep shadow, until he gained the gate and went through it into the
alley. It had taken him only a few moments to traverse the short
distance, but the distortion of time, in his drugged brain, made it seem
like miles and miles and hours of time to accomplish. It seemed to him
that he moved in slow motion, every step taking an eternity, and it was
as though he had no contact with the earth. He floated in a marijuana
dream world ... only this was a bad dream in which he had to run away
... run until he could run no more ... until he dropped from sheer
exhaustion.

He was through the gate, now. He almost had it made! A car entered the
upper end of the alley, its lights lancing ahead of it into the
darkness. Don shrank back, kneeling down to hide behind the two garbage
cans next to the fence. The car ground slowly down the alley until it
was abreast of the gate into the back yard of the Lunceford place. The
car stopped. A man got out and shone a flashlight on Don's motorcycle.

He got a glimpse of white-striped blue pants.

PIGS!

"Does it belong here!," a deep voice from the patrol car.

"Naw! Probably belongs to some kid that's making it with that youngest
Lunceford girl!"

"Marcy? That the one ...?"

"Yeah ..."

"She's playing fast and loose!" the patrol unit driver said. "We'll have
to take her in one of these days ... then there'll be hell to pay
because it's just a matter of time before they'll get her in a narc raid
on one of those pot parties!"

The policeman with the flashlight got back into the patrol car. He lit a
cigarette. "That bad?" he asked.

"Hell yes! She's a Lunceford ... and Luncefords carry a lot of weight in
this town."

The patrol car moved off down the alley; whatever else the driver had to
say about the Luncefords was lost in the sound of the engine and the
crunch of the tires on the gravel.

Don came out of his cramped place of hiding behind the garbage cans with
a huge sigh of relief. He expelled the air, gratefully, convinced that
he had been holding his breath for at least an hour. He leaned against
the fence to calm himself. MAN! That was close! They would have busted
me for prowling ... and what could I have said? Nothing! That I was just
diddling with Marcy ... toked up on pot ... and Frenching each other?
They would have found the joints on me ... and I would have been had!
Christ! Who would've ever expected something like this to happen ...
It's just too close! Too damned close! If the man ever busts me ... It's
Juvie .... and maybe C.Y.A. Shit! I'm still shaking!

Out in the alley, now, he kicked up the parking stand on his big motor
bike, grasped the handlebar grips and pushed it up the alley, in the
opposite direction from the police patrol unit. Near the end of the
alley, he started the engine and rode out onto the street. He gained the
avenue in a few moments and headed for home.

A few blocks from the house, he decided not to turn into his street. He
was still under the influence of the marijuana and didn't want to risk
having either of his parents see him yet. He continued riding out the
avenue into a semi-rural area where he turned off on a lane heading into
the hills. He gunned the big bike up to the top of one of the steeper
hills, dismounted, killed the engine and stretched out on the ground,
enjoying the stillness and studying the expanse of the starry canopy
over him. He stayed there for almost three hours, alternately dozing and
being totally aware, all of his senses alive to everything around him
... and in him.

Finally, he mounted his cycle, rode back down the hill and went home. It
was well past 1:00 a.m. when he crawled into bed dead tired. He had had
a full day ... and night!

* * *

He saw Marcy Lunceford in the hallway during passing time. She was cool
to his airy greeting, but he persisted.

"Get lost, Don!" she snapped.

"Marcy ... I just wanted to tell you ..."

"Didn't you dig ...? I said split ... get lost!"

He couldn't understand her manner. He had just wanted to tell her that
he wanted to give her the other five he still carried in his wallet. It
was too late, he guessed. Christ! I sure goofed it up with her!

After school dismissal, Don spent several minutes gassing with some of
his acquaintances. The campus was almost deserted as he made his way to
his motorcycle parked in the South parking lot. He had almost reached
his big bike before he realized that something was wrong. Jack Roberts
was seated in the saddle, obviously waiting for him. Two other students
lounged near him. It was too late, he realized. He would have to talk to
Jack!

Don was sucked into the ploy. His eyes swiveled to look where Jack had
indicated. Off guard, he was totally unprepared for the hard, swinging
blow to his gut. As he bent over with the sudden, nauseous pain of it, a
steel-shod toe booted him, painfully, in the buttocks. He sprawled
writhing in pain to the ground. Instinctively, he balled himself, as
from the other side another boot caught him in the ribs. Several more
such blows were rained on him, all accurately placed in his body so they
wouldn't show. His arms, legs, groin and face were scrupulously avoided,
as the beating was administered, quickly, soundlessly ... and with
professional elan. It was over in a matter of seconds. As the three
hoodlums walked away, Jack said, curtly, "Tonight!"

Don Scott was almost seventeen. It had been a long time since he had
cried real tears, but he did now. He sat on the curb and bawled. He hurt
all over, and he cried with the hurt, the fear ... and the humiliation.

Finally, after long minutes, he crawled onto his motorbike, painfully,
and headed for home. On the way, he passed his sister, Charity. She
waved at him, flashing him a smile as he went by, but he did not stop to
pick her up. He didn't want her to know what had happened to him.
Actually, he couldn't tell anyone. It was a burden he would have to bear
alone. Christ! I am in it now! Where in hell can I get fifteen dollars?

He was almost home when it hit him. The idea was monstrous! He had never
considered anything like it before, and he wondered whether or not he
could do it. Hell, if I don't pay off ... those goons are liable to cut
me up next time!

Shuddering, he visualized how he would look after having been beaten
with bicycle chains, iron bars and brass knuckles. It was too horrible
to think about. The beating administered to him was just a warning. He
knew that. He could do nothing now but pay off! He had to have money! He
had to have it fast!

His mind was made up. He would do it. Don Scott was going to steal a
twenty-dollar bill from the money his mother kept in her dresser drawer!
He did it before Charity got home.

Chapter 3

Charity walked home in the midst of a group of chattering, giggling
girls of her acquaintance; her head was in the clouds, and she was in
contact with reality only intermittently as she talked excitedly with
them hardly believing that it was true.

She had stayed after school for the auditions for the annual school
musical production. Her singing and acting had been outstanding, and she
had been selected to sing the leading female role. She couldn't believe
her ears when the final announcement had been made just a few minutes
before as she sat in the auditorium surrounded by several of the other
girls who were trying out for parts. There had been screams of
excitement and general confusion after the announcements. Needless to
say, she was elated. Getting the leading role in the musical was one of
the things she had dreamed about, but she had worked, too. She had
worked hard at her music and dramatics. It was the hard work that had
paid off for her.

The drama teacher had talked with her, briefly, after the auditions,
questioning her concerning her plans for further education and
suggesting that she consider applying for various scholarships.

"They've an excellent Drama Department at Redfern College, and I'd be
willing to recommend you ... Charity," he told her.

"My folks don't have much money ... It'd be ..." she began.

"Scholarships go begging every year ... I'll help you get started, and
the earlier the better!" She was still walking on air after her talk
with the drama coach, her mind filled, now, with impossible dreams.

One sad note entered her thoughts. She hoped and prayed that this year
her parents would attend the musical production. The year before, as a
high school junior, she had sung an important supporting role in the
musical. She had been happy and elated with her accomplishment, and had
looked forward to the night when her parents would be in the audience.
On the night of the performance, however, her mother had had to go to
work at the last moment to replace a waitress who had called in saying
she was sick and couldn't work. Charity had been disappointed. Her
mother had said, "Charity ... you understand, don't you ... we need the
money, and my boss isn't able to get anyone else, just now."

Charity had understood with her mind. Yes, it was true they needed the
money, but she needed something money couldn't buy ... she needed her
father and mother in that audience watching her and listening to her ...
she needed their moral support to complete the reason for her effort. It
was not too much she was asking: Three hours of her parents' time, spent
in the darkened auditorium enjoying the world of make-believe she was
helping to create on the stage.

Well, even if both her parents couldn't be there, her father would be,
she told herself, but in this hope, she was disappointed, too. Her world
had been shattered when he didn't show up. He had gotten drunk with some
of his cronies, forgetting all about his daughter's great performance.
An evening that should have been a high point in her life had turned
sour, and she cried herself to sleep that night in her loneliness.

Charity was walking alone, now, along the avenue. She heard the roar of
her brother's motorcycle as he overtook her and passed her. She flashed
a smile at him, but he didn't stop. It wasn't unusual; it was only
occasionally that he would stop to give her a ride home, but today,
especially, she had wanted to talk to Donnie. She wanted to tell him
about her having won the leading role in the musical. She had to tell
him, because mom would be at work and dad was probably out somewhere
drinking. Even if he were home, he'd probably be half-soused, she
decided. Anyway, there was no talking to dad. He talked to everybody
except his family. She knew of her father's reputation as a talker; it
was an embarrassment to her to know that he was one of the town drunks,
a character known as Gabby Scott. His loud-mouth ways, quick temper and
ready fists had landed him in jail for short stretches on more than one
occasion. And mom ...? She wouldn't be able to see her until morning ...
that is if she hadn't had to work overtime and was sleeping later than
usual.

She let herself into the house. Donnie's cycle was parked in the drive,
but he was nowhere to be seen. She was surprised not to find him in the
kitchen gobbling down a snack. Her father, also, was apparently not at
home. She headed for her own room, but on impulse, she went on through
the kitchen to the back porch and knocked, softly, on his bedroom door.

"Donnie ...?" she called.

"Yeah ..." His voice a croak.

"I wanted to tell you something ..."

"Flake off!" he grunted.

"I got the lead ... in the musical ... And ..." she faltered, feeling
his rebuff.

"Big deal!"

She recognized, then, that something was wrong. "Are you all right ...
Donnie ...?" she queried.

"Get the hell out of here!" he roared. "Get off my back ... just get the
hell off my back ... damn you!"

Charity turned from his door, not understanding, a tear welling into
each eye to run down her cheeks, and went into her own room. Dear God
what's happening to us ... to our family?

For the second time, the thought worked to the surface of her conscious
mind. I'd be better off ... if. I didn't live here! I feel like I could
run away ... maybe run away with Donnie! He said he felt the same way
... and was going to do it pretty soon. I wonder if ... he'd take me
with him ...? We could go on the street together ... and help each other
... and look out for each other. It would be just the two of us ... the
two of us ... against the world ...!"

She realized that something must be bothering her brother. He was
sometimes moody and treated her badly, but he always came around. Later,
he would rap with her about the musical and tell her how glad he was
that she had gotten the part.

Don, meanwhile, lay flat on his back, on his narrow bed, smoked a
cigarette and tried to find some answers for himself. His body hurt,
horribly, from the blows he had received at the hands=93=93and
feet=93=93of Jack Roberts and his two hangers-on.

Right after he had let himself in the house, he had gone, immediately,
to the drawer in his parents' bedroom where his mother kept her extra
cash, took a twenty dollar bill, put it in his wallet and went directly
to his room. He felt a qualm of conscience, knowing that what he was
doing was wrong ... but rationalizing with himself that he could not do
differently. He had to have the money! It was expedient to take it from
his mother's cache. He had a passing thought concerning the possibility
of trying to return it, later, but he knew that would not be possible
... at least, not right away; especially, after she had discovered its
disappearance. He had already decided to take it ... and he would lie,
if necessary, after his mother discovered its loss. God! He was in a
real bind! They'll cut me up ... sure as hell ... if I don't pay up!

Then, he had stripped himself naked, in the privacy of his room, to
examine his injuries. There was no blood, no broken bones, but the
bruises were already evident. He would be awfully sore and stiff. In a
little while, he would go take a hot, soaking bath to allay some of the
soreness.

Damn! It's muscle and organization! That's what Jack's got! And there's
no fighting it alone! Christ! Three to one! I didn't have a fucking
chance!

His mind raced. His thoughts dealt with revenge, planning how he would
even the score with competition, trying to think of ways to hurt Jack
Roberts, fighting fire with fire, as it were. He couldn't settle
anything, but he knew that Don Scott had been made a fool of ... for the
last time. He was going to play it smart and cool ... never allow
himself to get into any kind of bind at all, and he would do all and
more that Jack Roberts was doing. When the time came, he would take care
of Jack ... and Marcy! Just use my head from now on! Brains! Muscle!
Organization! That's for me, man! Yeah!

He put on a bathrobe and went into the bathroom. There was only the one
connecting bath in the house, making it necessary to go through one or
the other of the bedrooms. He chose to go through Charity's room,
thinking he might get to see her nude body, again.

Not knocking at her door, he went in. She was just taking off her bra,
the only garment she wore, and just before she turned her back on him,
clutching at herself to cover her nakedness, gasping out a frightened
Donnie!, he saw her in all her luscious, young beauty: The mounding
swell of her breasts, high and proud, her smooth, white thighs, her
full, soft, rounded buttocks and the curling reddish hair at the Vee of
her thighs. "Sorry, Sis!" he mumbled, not at all sorry, but happy with
what he had seen.

"Ugh! How many times do I have to tell you to knock!" she stormed,
angrily, as he went on into the bathroom.

Turning back to her, as he closed the door, he said, "Don't get Shook,
Charity ... I've Seen naked women before!"

He closed the door quickly; she had just hurled a shoe at him, with
another Snort of irritation. Inside, the bathroom he took off his robe
to reveal an almost instantaneous erection, spearing out from his loins,
thick and hard. He reached down to massage and caress it with a hand.
Christ! She's beautiful! Man ... how I'd like to get it into her ... if
she just wasn't my sister!

Charity was irritated with her brother for his frank appraisal of her
body. It seemed he had "accidentally" been seeing an awful lot of her
nakedness, lately. She was embarrassed by his lustful stare, each time
he had walked in on her like this. He looks at me .... like he does at
those pictures in the books and magazines he reads!

She remembered how her cheeks had flushed when he had shown her a
particularly suggestive picture of a couple in lewd copulation. "Donnie!
That's not very nice!"

"Get with it, Sis!" he had told her. "Sex is here to stay!"

Then she remembered what he had just said. "I've seen naked women
before!" He hadn't said girls ... he said women! Donnie considers me a
woman!

She looked at herself in the mirror, tipping it and standing tall to see
as much of herself as she could. What she saw, she liked, for the first
time. Yes! He's right! I'm really a woman .... almost a full-grown
woman!

* * *

Something he overheard from the man next to him caused him to prick up
his ears and listen more closely. The man had asked about a woman ... a
woman named Dottie!

"Yeah ... I got a real good lay with her a couple of days ago, when I
was through here ... thought I'd look her up, again!"

"Sorry, Buddy ... I can't help you ..." the bartender said.

"Name's Dottie Scott ... good looking ... damn good legs ... and she
really knows how to wriggle her ass! Hell! It cost me twenty bucks for
less than an hour with her!"

The bartender looked aghast at him, then cast a surreptitious glance at
Gabby Scott. Good Christ! Gabby's wife! "Look, Buddy! I think you'd
better drop it ... just a word to the wise!"

Scott was off his chair, his fists swinging in short, punishing arcs,
and the salesman was on the floor, in seconds. Gabby's drinking buddy
grabbed him to keep him from changing the man's sex as he aimed a deadly
kick at the salesman's groin. The bartender called the police, and Gabby
was arrested and booked on a disturbance of the peace charge. The
salesman was pretty badly shaken up. He told the arresting officer that
he was thinking of preferring a charge of assault, against his attacker.

"Damned if I know what got into him!" he told the bartender.

"Dottie Scott is his wife!" he told the salesman, levelly. "Now, get the
hell out of here!"

"It's a fact ... What I said,"

"Maybe Gabby'll want to sue for slander ... now, just leave my bar,
Fella! ... I don't like your kind of business!" the bartender said. He
was exasperated. Trouble like this was bad for business .... and he
could care less how many guys Dottie laid. It was none of his business
... up to the time it began to affect the patronage of his bar. Then, he
didn't want any more to do with it. The stupid ass could take his
problems some other place!

The salesman slapped a bill on the bar and growled. "Mighty friendly
place you got here!" His voice dripped with sarcasm. He left the bar and
went back to his motel to take care of his cuts and bruises. Damn! That
was a coincidence! Who'd ever think the broad's husband'd be sitting
right next to me? Well, he'll be in jail for a few days! Then, the idea
hit him! He's in jail! Obvious!

* * *

"Dottie ... I'm being booked ... down here at the jail," he said ... can
you go bail for me ...?"

"What happened? Why were you arrested?" she worried.

"I hit a guy ... in a bar! I was under the influence ..."

"Whatever for ..."

"You and me'll talk about that, later!" he said grimly; then, more
placatingly, "... But, I don't want to spend the night in jail! Can you
get me out?"

"Gabe ... I can't! We're short-handed here ... and if I walked out ...
I'd get fired sure!" she explained. "I'll come down first thing tomorrow
morning ... all right ...?"

"Hell no ... it ain't all right ... but if that's the way it is ... I
guess I'll have to live with it!" He growled and hung up.

She stared at the silent receiver, replacing it in its cradle, absently,
trying to fathom what he meant. How could she be involved? What dark
reason was there for her husband to beat up another man in a bar? Who
was it? Why? WHY? There were no answers coming her way, and there was a
customer signaling for her. She moved out to the floor, going about her
work in a daze. Dear God ... what's happened? I wish I knew! Oh, how I
wish I knew!

About ten o'clock, the traveling man came into the cocktail lounge.
Dottie recognized him, at once, but there was no way she could avoid
him; she had to take his order, Serve him his drink ... and talk to him,
if she had to do so The owner wanted happy, satisfied customers. It was
that simple, and since he had chosen to sit alone in one of the booths
rather than at the bar, she went, reluctantly, to take his order.

"Hello, Dottie ..." he leered in a sarcastic tone of voice, "I'll have
Scotch on the rocks."

She hurried away to fill his order, not wanting to talk to him. He was
slow with the money when she brought his drink. His question was direct,
however. "How about a little party, tonight?"

Her smile was dazzling, artificial, "I'm all tied up," she lied, "for
the rest of the night! Maybe ... some other time."

Crestfallen, for a moment, he brightened with, "All right ... some other
time, then. You know I made a swing back down here, on purpose ... just
to see you, again ..."

"I'm flattered ... If you'll excuse me ... My customers ..." she said,
grateful that there really was a customer trying to get her attention.

The salesman finished his drink and left the lounge, after a few
minutes. Dottie breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him go. She had
no intention of having anything to do with that man again. He repulsed
her.

Dottie fielded a couple of other pick-up proposals, turning them down
flat. She was worried about Gabe, and she would have to arise earlier in
the morning, in order to get downtown, to arrange bail for her husband.
She was in no mood for anything involving sex.

Finishing her shift at the usual time, around 10:30, she hurried to her
car and drove home. For some reason, she felt apprehensive, and she laid
it to her worry over her husband, Gabe; additionally, she couldn't get
rid of the threat, the darkly veiled subject Gabe had hinted at in his
telephone call to her, a subject that, somehow, concerned her. She had
still not been able to fathom what it was.

She parked her car in the driveway, noting that Donnie's motorcycle was
not there. The boy was still out, somewhere, but it was nearing the time
when he should be coming home. She would have to speak to him, again,
about his late hours. It had been past one in the morning, the last time
he was so terribly late. That boy is starting to run wild! ... But he's
a good boy ... Donnie always has been good ... but lately, he seems to
be getting more and more independent ... and rebellious!

The front door lock was stubborn, and she jiggled the key around, trying
several times before it finally opened. As the door swung open and she
took a step inside, a dark figure lurking in the shadows of the porch
came up behind her, gave her a push, stepped inside and closed the door.
It was a man. Fear pounded into her, as she stumbled across the floor
from the impetus of his shove. She wanted to scream. She opened her
mouth, but she was seized from behind, her arms pinioned, a hand clapped
over her mouth. There was a raspy, low voice in her ear, "Take it easy
... Dottie! Don't scream Don't make a sound ... I don't want to hurt
you!" It was the salesman from the bar. "Understand?"

Dottie nodded her head in the affirmative. She Wouldn't scream, now; at
least, she knew who it was. He was not a complete stranger to her. After
all, she had bedded him once, already. No! He Was not a stranger, yet
she knew, instinctively, that she should not trust him. He removed his
hand from her mouth.

"Wh-What are y-you doing h-here?" she demanded, peering him in the dim
glow of the night light in her living room.

"I knew you lied!" he accused. "There's nobody else ... Tonight!"

"Th-That's right! And this is my home you've come busting into!" she
hissed, aware that Charity was sleeping only a few paces away, in her
bedroom.

"He knows now! That's why he's in the lock-up!" The salesman fingered
the bruise on his jaw.

"H-How ...?"

"I was asking about you. He over heard me ... and started beating me
up!"

"Oh! No!?"

"That's the way it was!" he gloated. "Now, he's in jail ... and you and
I are alone ..."

"And y-you expect m-me t-to ...?"

"You're going to get fucked ... but good!"

She panicked for a moment. "N-Not h-here! Th-This's my h- home ...!"

"What difference does that make?"

"M-My d-daughter ... she's asleep ..."

"Don't worry about it ... It's you I want!"

Dottie thought fast. She could demand a higher fee, discourage him,
perhaps, in his pursuit of her. "I-It'll cost y- you f-fifty dollars!"
she said with some firmness.

"I'll pay you!" he snarled. "But, I'll pay you exactly what you're
worth, Bitch!" He took out his wallet, removed a twenty dollar bill and
thrust it at her. "In advance!"

She made no move to take it from him. At that point, the money really
made little difference to her. Her naming a fifty dollar fee was only a
ply. It was useless, she decided. The salesman seemed to hold the high
cards.

"Take it, God damn you ... or are you trying to make out you're too good
for me?"

She spat at him, the sputum spattering his jacket. His reaction was
swift. He slapped her on the side of the face, his palm smacking loudly
in the still house. She looked up at him, her hand going to her face.
She was dry-eyed. She would not cry for him.

It had ever been thus: Her fear of pain subjugated her. One slap and she
caved in, the fight gone from her. Gabe knew it ... and used it, when he
wanted to subdue her, bend her to his will, and this man had
accidentally found her weakness. She would do his bidding, now, for she
was a physical coward. It bothered her, but she could do nothing for
herself in the face of physical violence, except to submit to the will
of the one who perpetrated it upon her. Dear God! P-Please ...? I-I
don't w-want to be h-hurt ...

She cringed away from him, trying to make herself small and
insignificant, burrowing into the cushions of the couch. He came to her,
put an arm around her and led her, unresisting into her bedroom. She sat
down, numbly, on the side of the bed while he found a bedside lamp and
turned it on, then went to her dresser and put the twenty dollar bill he
still carried in his hand on the top of it.

He turned to her, noting that she had made no move to undress. "Get
naked, Bitch!" he ordered.

"N-Not here ..." she murmured. "M-My d-daughter ..."

"To hell with the brat! I'm going to fuck you right here ... in your own
husband's bed!" He advanced upon her, his eyes twin spots of pure lust.
"So ... let's get your God-damned clothes off!" A hand darted out,
grasping the front of her blouse and ripping downward, buttons and
material giving way under his brutal onslaught.

Dismayed, she looked down at her ruined garment, tears welling into her
eyes. "All right," she said, resignedly, "but, please ... don't ruin
anything else for me ..." She began to undress, almost mechanically, her
feeling of unreality strong in her, sure that she was dreaming this
scene and hoping that it would go away. She felt completely trapped.
There was no way, now, she could avoid going through with the sex act
with this man. He dominated her at every turn.

She glanced up at him. He was undressing, too, and already he was down
to his shorts, socks and undershirt. The obscene bulge of his erection
beat against the cloth of his shorts. She looked away. Dear God!

He dropped his shorts and peeled them from him, his short, thick penis
was freed, and she glanced back to see that it jutted out from his hairy
loins almost horizontally. Both his hands reached down to grasp and heft
his genitalia, lifting testicles and hardened rod together as he fondled
and massaged it. Then, he took hold of the thickened flesh and skinned
back the foreskin, the smooth, red, bulbous cock-head sliding forth like
some primeval, reptilian monster.

"I was a little too drunk to really enjoy our little party the other
night," he said. "Tonight's going to be different ... I've got some
plans for you!"

Dottie ignored him. She continued to undress at the slow pace she had
set for herself.

The salesman was impatient. He came to her, unhooked her bra, removed it
and flung it across the room, his hands moving, greedily, to the soft,
full, female mounds, to fondle and squeeze. Pushing her back on the bed,
he undid her garter belt and stripped it and her stockings from her to
follow in the same general direction of her bra. Now, only her panties
remained. They came off over the swell of her thighs in one swift
movement. She was completely naked. His eyes feasted on the loveliness
of her, concentrating on the dark, reddish hair of her pubic triangle,
the curving contours of her hips, tapering thighs and the reverse,
smoothly blending calves, delicate ankles and long, narrow feet.

Damn! She's a luscious piece! She must be 36, maybe 37 years old ... but
she looks like a young bitch of 25 or 26!

She shifted her body on the bed until she was lying straight;
positioning herself in the middle of it she deliberately spread her legs
wide and said, "O.K., if y-you want t-to f-fuck ... let's fuck!"

"Oh, no, you don't!" he fumed. "That's what my wife does ... just lays
there, waiting for me to cum, so she can roll over and go to sleep!
She's got about as much life as a frozen piece of liver .... and I get
just about that much out of it! Christ! It'd be more fun to jerk it
off!"

He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her around toward him, to the
side of the bed, until her soft, rounded buttocks were resting on the
edge of the bed, her long, tapering legs dangling down to the rug on the
floor. As he positioned her, he went on, "She never lets me suck her
cunt ... or lick her little clit ... and she refuses to suck my cock!
Shit! she wouldn't even say fuck .... until I made her say it!"

"Why tell m-me your wife's problems ...?"

"Because ... Tonight ... I'm going to do anything I want to!" he leered.
"All the things I've ever wanted to do to her!"

Kneeling down in front of her, he reached out and separated her
perfectly sculpted thighs and brought his face down to her warm, softly
pulsating female slit. He inhaled deeply of her clean femininity, as his
mouth searched for and found the soft, coral furrow that was hidden by
the curling strands of her pubic hair. He pushed his tongue into the
smooth-fleshed warmth between her open thighs and licked, parting the
soft resilient pussy hair with his broad, moist lingual member, savoring
the pungent female taste and reveling in the sensations created in him
as his tongue gained contact with the quivering, pulsating little
clitoris hidden in the soft, fleshy vaginal lips at the top of her
loins.

Dottie quivered and jerked, and she felt the firm warm helpless glow
spreading in her, infusing her loins and belly with the knowledge of
sexual reaction. She could feel the instant erection of her miniature
phallus as it hardened and pushed out to meet his probing tongue. She
hadn't wanted to respond to this man. Since she was committed to a
sexual encounter with him, against her will, she had hoped that it would
be fast, that she could remain uninvolved ... and get rid of him, once
and for all. God! How had it happened? How had she gotten trapped into
this? The last thing she had ever wanted was to bring a strange man into
her own home. She had kept everything compartmented, and she had felt
that the woman who entertained men, the prostitute, was a different
woman from the wife and mother. Now, the compartmentation of her life
had been destroyed, as she lay on her own marital bed and, reluctantly,
allowed this vile creature to do as he would with her. P-Please, God ...
don't ever let my children find out! With Gabe, she had decided, it
would be a different matter. They would work it out, but the real fear,
flow, in the back of her mind, lay with the possibility of discovery by
her children ... especially Charity! Then, she moaned, forgetting her
random thoughts of family. It was uncontrollable. The slashing sexual
sensations were there, working in her, against her will, her arousal
almost complete.

The man's tongue flicked steadily at the inner valleys of her moist,
excitedly flowering cunt, his lips nibbling at the sensitive coral lips,
sucking them to turgid stiffness, until his darting tongue began to move
in and out of her smooth, wet vaginal passage, pausing to tease around
its open mouth in tiny, excruciatingly maddening circles; then, she
moved her hips in tiny, undulating motions against him, her body begging
him for more, even as her still vainly resisting mind tried to deny the
pleasure of her body.

Now, the agile, ever-moving, searching mouth Was over her clitoris,
again, and he held the sensitive tip of it in his lips While his tongue
moved on it, tantalizingly Her pleasure grew in her, the winds of her
arousal Whirling around her, the vortex concentrated in her now hungry,
voraciously demanding loins.

He had licked and sucked, steadily, not allowing her a moment to change
her mind, and he knew that he was bringing her almost to the pinnacle of
her desire.

Her hands moved down, convulsively, to his head, to guide him, her
desire-heated loins straining up at his face, as she moved in a sexual
stupor, obeying the primal, animal urge to copulate ... wanting ...
needing it!

Feeling the nearness of her orgasm, he stopped. He had other plans for
her, and she was in exactly the state he wanted her! Damn! She's hot ...
really hot to trot and could probably get the hot little bitch to do
anything he wanted her to now.

He lifted his head from the seething moistness between her widespread
legs and looked up at her, pure lust reflected in his eyes. Looking
along the length of her body, her hair-covered pubic mound at eye-level,
in the middle ground of his vision the plain of her flat belly, dimpled
with the crater of her navel and in the background, the twin mounds of
her soft, white breasts, capped with the erectile nipples, standing tall
and proud; between the mounds was the deep-clefted valley. Beyond that
valley, he saw her red, lipsticked mouth, ovalling with the intensity of
her pleasure.

Her mouth was his goal, now. It was the one thing he wanted most: for a
woman to use her mouth on him ... bring him to full orgasm ... to
ejaculate there, spewing his hot sperm into her mouth and throat. It was
the thing denied him ... the one act he wanted because it was denied.
Christ! He could almost feel it now ... that luscious mouth on him,
sucking him. He had controlled the urge to mount her ... jackhammer his
cock into her cunt until he came. It would have been easy to do ... but
he had wanted her to be ready ... to do anything. And, she's ready, by
God!

The salesman pressured several more tongue-licks, back to front, through
her sensate, moistly ready flesh, before he raised his head, again, and
said, "Not yet, Baby ... I've got something else I want to do ...
first!"

"Wh-What ...?"

"I'm going to fuck you in the mouth!"

Dottie was not shocked. She had performed fellatio before, sucking on a
cock to ejaculation She had done it for several of the men she had gone
with, and in her estimation, it was sometimes highly desirable as a way
of making a man finish quickly, earning her money to feed the children
and getting rid of him right away. She hadn't learned to like it,
especially, but she had no real objection to it. It was certainly less
bother than vaginal intercourse.

She said, resignedly, "All right ... I guess I can s-suck you off!"

"You misunderstood me!" he snapped, stand mg to his feet before her, his
cock lancing out thick and hard, its shortness seeming to make it appear
more massive. "I said that I'm going to fuck you in the mouth! Get up on
the bed!"

Finally, she understood him. He intended to use her mouth like he would
her cunt. He was not going to be a passive recipient of a sucking
action; he intended to be the active one She visualized it, his big cock
moving in and out of her oral cavern in brutally punishing strokes. Dear
God! He wants to degrade ... humiliate me, beyond all reason!

She had not moved to lie straight in the bed, yet. Her head whirled. It
was difficult to make up her mind ... whether to obey him, allow him to
use her in such an obscene manner ... or disobey him ... and take the
consequences of her disobedience.

"My God ... that's inhuman ...!"

CRACK!

He leaned over her and put the full weight of his body behind his hand,
as he slapped her across the face, for the second time. Tears started,
instantly, into her eyes, scalding her cheeks as the tiny rivulets
cascaded down. Mindlessly, dully, she hastened to obey, her body gaining
dominance over her reasoning mind. Her fear of bodily pain acting as the
trigger, she knew she had lost another round in this sexual bout. She
had lost; she knew it and could do nothing about it. She was helpless to
defend herself.

As she gained her new position in the middle of the bed, he crawled on
to it beside her. "That's more like it!" he grunted, leering down at
her. "When I pay a whore ... I expect her to do what I want to do ...
otherwise, there's going to be hell to pay!"

The salesman crawled over her naked body, straddling her face, his
buttocks resting on her chest, crushing the soft, white hillocks of her
breasts under his weight. He took his massive rod of hardened flesh into
his hand and pressed the throbbing, rubbery head against her lips. She
kept her mouth tightly closed, not yet prepared mentally to engage in
such an obscene act.

"Open your mouth, Baby," he threatened, "or do you Want another one
across the face?"

"God, n-no ...!"

When she opened her mouth to speak, he pushed the tip of his hardened
cock past her opening lips, into the damp, warm cavern of her mouth. Her
tears streamed down her cheeks, unchecked, as she realized she would
have to do as he bade her.

There was nothing else for Dottie to do, now, but submit to his Wishes.
Automatically, she ovaled her mouth wide for him, cushioning her teeth
with lips drawn over them, as he pushed into her oral opening a few more
inches. She used her tongue to lave the length of it in her mouth,
swirling it around the smooth, rubbery head.

"You can go ahead and suck like that ... if you want to, but I'm going
to do the work, Baby! I'm going to ram my cock down that sweet little
mouth of yours ... fuck your mouth like a hot sucking cunt!"

He withdrew his prick until just the head remained in her mouth. "Now,
keep your lips just like that ... tight, but not too tight!" he
commanded, leering gleefully down at her shamefully contorted face.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she obeyed him,
keeping her mouth ovaled and steady, as he began to move in and out of
her mouth with long, powerful strokes, his cock feeling like a log
sliding in and out of her throat. Her jaws began to ache with the
effort, as his huge thickness ground down into her face. God! He's so
thick ... and huge! It feels like he'll break my jaw!

She closed her eyes, hoping that she would be able to blot out the
obscene spectacle of her own debasement ... the ultimate humiliation of
having a strange man have his way with her helpless body in her own
husband's bed ...

Then, perhaps because of her very helplessness, she suddenly and
unexplainably, began to feel a rearousal of her own sexual needs, the
arcing sensations in the nerves of her loins signaling a coming
rapturous ecstasy. She couldn't understand it. The brutal thrusts of his
cock into her mouth was somehow erotic, perhaps a masochistic eroticism,
an unconscious desire to be debased and punished for being the whore she
was. She didn't know, of course, it was the sensations that were real in
her; sensations that told her she was going to soar to a climax. How,
she didn't know, but the pinnacle of her passion was there just ahead
... and she would reach for it! The pleasure in her seething,
voraciously, needful loins was building ... building, and she flayed her
legs ineffectually out to the sides of the bed, then brought them
together again to rub her tingling thighs together.

She opened her eyes. The obscene spectacle was still there. The man's
prick moved in and out of her mouth, disappearing past her tongue, into
her throat, the hairiness of his loins tickling her nose as he plunged
into her. She could see the slight paunch advancing and retreating in
front of her, the muscles of his abdomen straining as his strokes became
harder, deeper, spearing down into her gullet, until she was aware that
she was taking all of his thick shaft inside the confines of her mouth.
Now, her own arousal prompted her to move with him, countering his
thrusts by bobbing her head up to meet him, and his cock went ever
deeper into her mouth and throat. The sensation in her loins was driving
her wild. She had to have a cock in her cunt! It was only a man's hard
driving penis, she knew, now, that would make her cum!

Dottie gave in, completely, to her debasement. She sucked, hollowing her
cheeks, increasing the pressure of her lips around his huge rod, and her
tongue swished and swirled around him, as though she were a little girl,
again, with an all-day sucker.

Above her, the salesman was lost in a wild ecstasy of his own. He was
panting; now, driving for his orgasm, his ejaculate demanding release,
and he increased his thrusting speed and depth. "Oh, God!" he moaned.
"Just a little more ... and I'll cum in that sweet little mouth of
yours!"

Gagging, now, from the forceful pile-driving flesh into her throat, she
fought for air, trying at the same time to move her head and suck for
all she was worth. Continually, now, she mewled deep in her chest, the
sounds muffled and eerie, and, uncontrollably, her thighs moved,
scissoring back and forth to gain maximum stimulation of her genitals
that felt neglected below. Her debasement was crowded out of her mind by
the need to cum to orgasm. Oh, God! I'm so close ... but I have to have
a cock in my cunt! I have to have something ... something!

The man, above her, slid his knees back until he was lying flat on her
face. He began fucking, furiously, jerking in and out of her gaping
mouth, using her desperately working lips exactly as a cunt. She gasped
with the fury of his pounding prick, writhing beneath him, struggling
for breath, but needing to cum herself; then, her hands moved down
between her own widespread legs. Yes! Oh, God, yes! That's it! I'll cum,
now!

Into the seething moistness of her voracious pussy, she thrust three
fingers, jabbing them in, savagely, and finger-fucking them in and out
to the established rhythm of her obscene sucking of the cock locked
tightly in her mouth. God! It felt good!

Her other hand moved to her clitoris, and together, they worked there,
substituting for the cock she had been denied by the perverse actions of
the vile man who was fucking into her mouth so fast and furious.

His body stiffened, suddenly, and she felt his cock expand in her mouth
as he shoved it in even further and stopped dead, his prick spewing his
hot, white sperm into the depths of her throat. Desperately, to keep
from choking she swallowed, the warm viscous liquid going down as
quickly as he shot it into her.

... And, then, the climax was there for her, its magnificent convulsions
overcoming her, taking her under into an undertow of terrific power,
shooting her to the surface, finally, as she gasped for breath, afraid
that she would drown, and she was aware that it was his cum in her mouth
that had seemed to gag her, cut off her .... make her feel that she was
drowning.

Dottie lay under him, still swallowing desperately to keep from choking,
feeling the deflation of his cock as it grew softer, more spongy in her
mouth each moment, until, finally, it slipped wetly out of her lips and
rested on her face. She used her hands to push him from off her,
struggling to sit up, at the same time.

"Oh, Baby ... that was good ...!" he groaned.

She made up her mind, this time, in a lightning second.

"All right ... you got what you came for ... you can clear out, now!"
she said, firmly.

He laughed a short, hard laugh. "That's what you think! I'm staying here
all night!"

Calmly, she sat up on the edge of the bed and reached into the drawer of
the bedside stand. Her hand came up holding her husband's P-38. She
stood to her feet and said, "Get dressed ... and get the hell out of my
house ... or by all that's Holy ... I'll shoot!"

The salesman's eyes widened in sudden terror at her obviously serious
threat. "Christ! D-Don't point that thing ... a-at m-me!"

"Move!" she ordered, her voice, steely.

She hadn't thought she could do it, but she surprised herself, her
confidence supreme, as she watched the frightened man come off the bed
and begin to get dressed, hastily.

When he had finished, she motioned him out of the room, keeping the
deadly pistol aimed at him, Constantly. He paused at the door, cleared
his throat and began, "Look ... I-I ..."

"Out!" she snapped.

He went out the front door, his face grim ... frightened. He knew better
than to argue. She held all the cards.

Locking the front door of her home, securely, she fled back to her
bedroom and flung herself onto the bed, drained, completely, her
emotional reaction, now, to her ordeal allowed full reign, as great sobs
wracked her body and scalding tears Washed over her face. She couldn't
believe that it had happened. It was too bizarre ... impossible.

A strange thought flitted through her mind:

After all this ... my first time with him in his motel ... his fight
with Gabe ... and this ... tonight ... I don't even know that monster's
name!

Perhaps it was just as well she didn't know his name. The name would
haunt her. As it was ... it would only be his face ... and the memory of
his lewd sex act with her that she would remember.

Oh, Dear God! Charity!

She sat bolt upright, her eyes darting to the connecting bathroom door.
A fleeting memory was there. The door had been closed, but when she came
back into the bedroom after shooing the salesman out of her house ...
and out of her life, it had been ajar, slightly. God! Had Charity seen
her? Had she watched through the crack in the bathroom door? Oh, God,
please ... don't let it be so!

... Of course, she would never know She would never know, unless Charity
indicated by word or action that she had been an observer of her
unnatural actions with a strange man.

Dear God ... What have I done ...? WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Chapter 4

Some of the soreness was soaked away in the hot bath, and Donnie felt
better, both physically and mentally. He relaxed in his room, getting
dressed, finally, and going into the kitchen to forage for some food.

Charity heard him rummaging around and went in to help him. Together,
they put some sandwiches on the table, along with a quart of milk and
some cookies. Don wolfed down his food, talking now to his sister, as he
chewed huge mouthfuls.

"That's out of sight ... you getting the lead in the musical!" he told
her. "Sorry, I laid it on you ... when you first told me about it ..."
She glowed, happy that her brother had complimented her.

"Thanks, Donnie ... it's real groovy ... and it's a good show they chose
this year ..."

They chatted on about groups, festivals and school happenings. It was
nice, Charity reflected, to be able to talk to Donnie. He could be nice
some of the time, and he seemed to be working at being extra polite to
her.

Dad had not been home, all day, she remembered and asked her brother,
"Where's dad ...?"

Donnie snorted. "Not much of a father!" He was sarcastic, disdainful. He
arose from the table. "I'm splitting ... got to take care of some
business."

"Girl type business?" Charity kidded.

"Yeah!" he said, grimly. "Girl type?"

It was just getting dark when he left the house, mounted his motor bike
and roared off down the street. He stopped, on his way across town to
change the twenty dollar bill for two tens.

He parked his cycle in front of Marcy Lunceford's house, ambled up the
front walk and rang the doorbell. Her mother come to the door, eyed him
up and down and barked, "Yes?"

"May I talk to Marcy?" he asked politely.

"And who are you?"

"Don," he told her. "Just tell her Don wants to see her."

Mrs. Lunceford, again, looked him over from his boots to his
middling-long hair. She must have found something distasteful in the way
he looked, for she turned away, saying, "I'll call her ... She'll see
you, I suppose, if she's not busy!" She closed the door in his face.

"She'll see me!" Don assured the intricately carved portal.

The door was re-opened in a few moments. It was Marcy. Don lounged on
the porch railing; he did not go to her. She was forced to walk over to
him. He held the bills in his hand.

"I brought you your blood money!" he gritted.

"Groovy! Give it to me!"

He flung the bills to the floor at her feet.

"Pick them up ... whore!"

Hers was a bitter laugh. "Wake up, Don ... smell the coffee! If it gives
you a thing ... try the same label out on your mother!"

Don shot off the porch railing. He grabbed her by the shoulders. "That's
a God damned lie!" he grated into her face. "You little bitch ... I
ought to give you some of what I got this afternoon!"

Calmly, she shrugged free of his grasp. "You wouldn't dare! Jack and his
boys are just waiting for a chance to cut you up!" It was a bare-faced
threat.

He backed away from her. There would be no point in running into
something he knew he couldn't handle ... yet.

"All right ... lay it on me ... you know so damned much! How do you know
... that ... about my mom ...?"

"I've known it for months ... my uncle was talking to my father=93=93I
overheard them. He said he'd laid Dottie Scott ... took her to that
motel, on the highway ... just outside of town. He said she sucked him
off ... and fucked him!"

"That's enough!" Donnie's mind was seething. Christ! My own mom! "Did he
pay her for it ... just like a regular ... p- prostitute?"

"Like your father, Gabby ... he's the town drunk ... isn't he? When was
the last time he worked?"

Her truths were hitting home. Damn! Maybe she's right! Maybe Mom did
hove reasons for ... for doing it! He walked to the edge of the porch
and stared out into the street. Then, it's really dad's fault! He's to
blame! ... And, mom just wanted to get things for us kids ... like her
helping me to get my motor cycle! Christ!

"I know something else, too ..." she taunted.

"Lay it on me ... too!" he growled, not turning to face her.

"Your dad's in jail! He beat up a guy in a bar ... because he called
your mother a whore!"

"Great! Just great! Don grunted, "I hope he rots there!"

He walked quickly down the walk, started his bike and shot off down the
street, without a backward glance.

God! What a mess! Our family's just one great big nothing! Christ ...
the sooner I hit the street, the better! ... But, I've got to have some
bread ... before I leave! Got to have something to start out with!

Don headed for Ray Donahue's house. In Ray's room, lounging at ease, he
talked about what had happened to him at the hands of Jack Roberts.

"We've got to have muscle, man! We can do the same things better ... if
we've got the organization!" he told Ray.

"Yeah, like that's what I say, too. We could get a couple more cools
guys ... and do some leaning of our own!" Ray agreed, enthusiastically.

They talked for hours and laid it all out. Their meticulous plans, they
were convinced, was going to net them a lot of bread. The money would
come their way, now, and they were going to use every means at their
disposal. Don, of course, didn't tell the tall, freckled-face boy that
for him, at least, this was going to be a short-term project. All he
wanted was a stake ... then he would get the hell out of Redfern. It was
the street for him ... probably in San Francisco! Things happened up
there. He wanted to be in on it ... where it was happening!

"You want to go the whole route, Don ... use some real muscle?"

"Like what?"

"Like guns, maybe?"

"Guns?" Don was incredulous. "Christ! You get caught ... and they send
you up North! No simple little Juvie for that!"

"But, if you're smart ... real brainy ... you don't get caught!"

"Yeah ... But ..."

"I lifted a couple, already!" Ray boasted.

"Guns ...?"

"Like, why should I put you on ...?" Ray reached into his closet and
produced two pistols, a snub-nosed .38 and a .45 automatic. He handed
Don the .38, and he hefted it in his hand. "Be careful ... it's loaded!"
Ray warned.

Don was impressed. "Like, man ... nobody'd argue with this!" He suddenly
saw the weapon for what it was: A powerful force, in the hands of the
wielder ... and equalizer ... a counter force. He had given up some
ideas about Peace, Love ... and Non-violence that afternoon. Those ideas
had fled as the blows rained down on him from the fists and boots of
Jack Roberts and his two goons. Christ! What a temptation!
"You want to learn how to use it?" Ray asked.

"Sure, man! Go ahead ... lay it on me!"

Ray Donahue showed him the mechanics of the pistol and gave him a
half-full box of ammunition and loan of the pistol so that Don could do
some target practice.

Riding home on his big motorcycle, Don felt important, confident, even a
little cocky, with the .38 tucked into the waistband of his jeans, his
windbreaker zipped up to cover the butt of it. As he rode along, his
hand would steal to the pistol, to feel it, fondle it, and he idly
wondered whether or not he would use it. Could he point it at a person?
More importantly, could he fire it ... if he had to do so? He didn't
know. One thing he did know: There could be no such thing as a three to
one fight ... with the loaded gun in his hand.

A station wagon, standing at the curb on the opposite side of the
avenue, attracted his attention. A stockily built man labored, in shirt
sleeves, to change a flat tire. It was almost one o'clock in the
morning. There was no traffic. The man was alone.

Don rode on for two more blocks. He wrestled with an idea he couldn't
shake. It was late. The guy was alone. He was a middle- aged
establishment type, and he probably had a wallet stuffed with bread.
Man! it would be easy! He fondled the butt of the short- barreled .38
that nestled in his groin. Like taking candy away from a baby! Shit!
This could be perfect! The guy couldn't possibly identify me ... it's so
dark!

The boy pulled over to the curb and parked. His heart pounded. Fear and
a certain sense of profound excitement welled up in him. He had
experienced it once before and overcame it, as he reached into his
mother's dresser drawer and stole a twenty dollar bill. What he
contemplated, now, was bigger ... much bigger. With an effort of will,
he calmed himself. His mind was racing, planning what he must do. He
must have every detail set in his hastily formulated plans. Every move
must be thought through ... so there could be no possible foul-up.
Satisfied, finally, his mind made up, his plan of action settled, he
went to work. He took off his boots, removed his socks, put the boots
back on and used the socks, tying them on with bits of string from his
saddlebag, to conceal the registration plate on the rear fender and the
manufacturer's name on the right side of his bike. He was almost ready,
but he looked around to make sure he was not observed. All the homes
were dark and peaceful; however to throw off suspicion, he knelt down
and pretended to tinker with the engine. It was a master stroke. A car
drove by on the avenue, and he was caught in the glare of its
headlights, as head down, he delved into the machinery of the motor. His
heart beat like a jackhammer, momentarily, until he was sure the car
would not stop. It continued on up the avenue, not pausing in its steady
forty mile an hour speed. Damn! That scared the living hell out of me!

After long moments, he stopped shaking, mounted his bike, made a U-turn
and headed back towards the parked station wagon with the flat tire.

Don had tied his handkerchief over the lower part of his face as he rode
along and pulled his stocking cap down to his eyebrows. He pulled up
beside the car and behind the man changing the flat tire, noting that he
was just tightening up the lug bolts. Don said nothing. He waited, the
gun in his hand.

The salesman looked up at him, finally, and started to say, "Got the
damn thing ..." He stopped. The menacing pistol in Don's hand was
pointed directly at him.

Speaking low, Don told him, "Put your wallet on the hood of the car!"

The frightened man hastened to obey. It was the second time tonight he
had stared down the barrel of a pistol.

"That's it ... l-look I've got to drive eight hundred miles to get home
... I-I can't ..."

Donnie put a twenty dollar bill back in the man's wallet. Then, he threw
the billfold under the car.

"Crawl under after it!" Don ordered. Again, the full-faced man obeyed.
Far be it from him to argue with a gun.

Stuffing the bills into his jeans pocket, Donnie mounted his motor cycle
and roared off down the avenue, in the opposite direction from his home;
then, taking a round-about route he worked his way homeward, parked his
bike in the driveway, removed the socks from it and put them in his
windbreaker jacket. Easy! Christ! It was almost too easy! The damned guy
was seared almost shitless!

Don hastily counted the money, as soon as he was in his room. It
amounted to seventy-nine dollars. Not bad! Not bad at all! He put the
money in a safe hiding place, the gun into the back of his closet in a
cloth duffel bag. He was just emerging from the closet when he heard a
soft tap at his door.

"Don ...?" It was Charity, his sister. "Can I talk to you ....?" she
murmured in a half whisper.

"Sure ... why not?" He opened the door and let her in.

* * *

Afterward, she applied herself to her school assignments and watched a
favorite T.V. show. It was later than usual when she prepared for bed.
Her father had still not returned home, and she wondered, again,
briefly, where he might be, deciding after some reflection, that it was
not unusual for him to be away from home for long hours. He was probably
drinking with some friends, trading stories, or maybe telling dirty
jokes. He did get completely stoned, at times, she knew ... but his
absence out of her mind, went into the bathroom and began her bedtime
ritual of bathing.

She couldn't, however, put her father completely out of her mind. The
way he looked at her, lately, really bothered her. It was as though he
was mentally undressing her, his half-lidded eyes following her every
movement, avidly, devouring her every contour, and she knew, almost
instinctively, that it was wrong. No father should have that kind of
interest in his own flesh-and-blood daughter as a sex object.

... And, it was sexual interest in her, on his part; she knew it and
recognized it, and was afraid to be alone with him. This was, of course,
the reason why she had wanted to remain at school in the nurse's room,
rather than go home. It was the unmentioned subject of her conversation
with Mrs. Keaton, the school nurse. It was also what prompted her to
remain in her own room, as much as possible, with the door locked, and
she, habitually, locked the door to the connecting bathroom when she
occupied it. On more than one occasion, he had accidentally blundered in
on her, his eyes sweeping over her naked young body before he excused
himself and left the room.

She knew, also, that Donnie was doing the same thing, now. There was the
same look in his eyes, a lustful yearning ... an unnatural desire.

Stripping her clothing from her young body she prepared to step into the
warm bath she had drawn. Her reflection in the mirror caught her
attention, and she studied her definitely womanly figure. She was
satisfied with what she saw ... But I'm not really as beautiful as mom.
My breasts are smaller ... and my hips are not as curvy ... at least not
yet.

Running her hands over the smooth, satiny skin, she brought up both
hands to cup the rounded hemispheres of her high, proud breasts, rolling
the erectile buds of the nipples in her fingers until they were
distended and the areolae puckered up around them, the warm flush of
tumescence flooding through her ... that feeling of need ... of desire
... of sexuality.

With an effort of will, she denied that sexuality, making herself think
of other things to relieve the concentration of her thoughts on her body
... and its promises.

As she had undressed a few moments before she was elated to discover
that her menstruation had stopped. Well ... that's finished and done
with ... for this month ...

Charity knew about and understood the mechanics of sex and reproduction.
She had had the Sex Education Class in school, but she had no burning
interest in sexual things. She had refused to go steady with any one
boy; she preferred to date several, but the mores of modern youth
dictated steady dating as de riguer. It followed, that although she was
an extremely attractive girl=93=93no .... she was an extremely beautiful
girl -- she didn't have many dates, because the word was out: Charity
doesn't want to go steady! She was practically cut off the vine, so to
speak, for one of the main reasons for steady dating was easy
availability for petting .... heavy petting ... and sexual intercourse.
Making out was the word, and Charity knew that many of the couples of
her acquaintance were either going all the way in sexual encounter ...
or were petting to orgasm, so-called heavy petting.

She remembered with an embarrassed blush the boy she had consented to
date for the third, consecutive time. He had parked after their date,
and she had consented to a few kisses and embraces. Bill Cartwright, the
boy, had gotten more and more aroused, his kisses deep and probing, his
tongue tantalizingly sweet and demanding in her mouth, then his hands
were on her breasts, dipping inside her blouse, unhooking her bra and
going under it to the warm, satin smoothness of them, her nipples coming
up spiky-hard, unbidden. There was that warm glow in her, and she did
not stop him, strangely, in spite of her resolve not to, wanting it to
go on and on, as searing sensations played in her loins ... new,
delightful feelings with their ever growing promise of rapture.

His mouth had trailed down her neck to the cleft between her breasts,
and then unbuttoning her blouse, he claimed the budding nipples with his
warm, wet lips. Oh, God! It was wonderful!

... But, something in her told her that it must stop, and she tried to
pull away from him, mumbling, "No ... Bill, no! We can't go on ...!"

He muffled her protests with his mouth, welding it to hers, as he kissed
her, again, deeply, his tongue doing wonderful things to her, and she
reciprocated, giving him her tongue to suck and nibble upon, while he
allowed his hand to caress and smooth down across her flat belly,
arriving, finally, at the vee between her thighs where he rubbed at her
through her clothing.

Again, she objected, but his insistent hands were under her skirt,
moving up her satiny smooth inner thigh against the rising wetness of
her panties, his finger through the filmy nylon material, finding the
hardening flesh of her clitoris in its secret hiding place, the sparse
hair-ringed furrow of her femaleness. His finger played there, stroking
her while the fiery sex sensations flooded through her, making her weak
in her objections to his manipulations, until finally, with a low
throaty groan up into his mouth, she surrendered to them.

She hadn't wanted to do it. Her reasoning mind told her that it was
wrong, but her body, sensate and reaching for ecstasy overruled all
rational thought and grasped for the pleasure of the moment, as her hips
moved, uncontrollably, in tiny, undulant movements up against his
teasing finger. Then, he pulled aside the wispy material of the
crotchband of her panties, his finger teasing into the tight, virginal
lips of her cunt, moving, tantalizingly, in the vestibule, but not
entering further, merely stimulating her beyond all reason.

"Oh, God ... Bill! Don't do any more to me ... I'm afraid!"

"Like what ...?" he asked. "Orgasm ...?"

"I've never ... d-done ... That ..." she faltered.

"Man ... you're strung out and ready, now!" he said with authority.

Reaching up, he grasped the waistband of her panties and pulled them
down as far as he could, she, unconsciously, shifting her weight until
he was able to pull then halfway down her thighs. He wormed a finger
into the viscous moistness of her pussy, again, and drew it through the
coral furrow up to the pulsing miniature phallus that peeped out, above.
She gasped when his finger touched her there, the nerve endings sending
out desperate signals for fulfillment. He stroked and fondled with his
hands, one in her cunt, moving with gentle caresses on her clitoris, the
other squeezing and smoothing her firm, rounded young breasts,
alternately, his mouth, meanwhile, busy sucking, nibbling and chewing at
her mouth, her neck and the hard, erectness of her nipple-buds.

Under his manipulative movements, her body had gone wild. Her hips moved
back and forth, now, countering the stroking movements of his fingers,
her mouth returned his kisses, and as the building fires in her loins
became almost unbearable, she began to moan, incessantly, her voice
keening in the closeness of the car. Her breath came in short gaspings;
she knew it was a sign that her climax was near. Oh, God! It feels
wonderful! I never want it to stop!

Her body began to jerk convulsively, her hips flexing upwards faster and
faster off the seat of the car, the sex-raw sensations arcing in her
like thunderbolts, until, suddenly, she recognized the new experience of
orgasm. She was in it! Surging tides of rapture enveloped her. Sight and
sound dimmed, and there was only the all-consuming ecstasy of the
moment. As from a great distance, she heard her own voice, "OOOOh!
Biiiillll! OOOOOOOoohhh! It's happening ... to me! It's cumming! It's
cuuummmming! AAAaaauuugggh!"

Wave after wave of euphoria washed through her. She collapsed in Bill's
arms, and he kissed her tenderly.

"Groovy ... wasn't it ...?" he asked.

"Y-Yeesssss! Oh, yes!"

She was ecstatic for a moment, but a disturbing thought struck her. She
verbalized it, immediately. "But ... it seems ... Wrong .... s-somehow
... doesn't it ...?"

"Hell! How can it be wrong? It felt good didn't it? And you enjoyed it
... that's the main thing!"

"But ... it's m-masturbation."

"That crap's for the dark ages!" he said, vehemently. "It's never hurt
anybody! Now, you can fix me ...!"
He reached down, unzipped his pants, delved inside and brought his fully
erect penis out into the car with them.

Charity had seen it standing up massively from his body, as he held it
by the shaft and pulled the foreskin back to expose the bulbous head of
it, a tear of preparatory lubricant glistening, viscously, at the slit
in the very tip. She looked away in embarrassment, not knowing how to
handle his obvious exhibition of it. On a few occasions, she had seen
both her father and her brother nude, but she had always felt
uncomfortable ... as though she were witnessing something that was
basically dirty.

"Here, let me put your hand on it," Bill said.

"M-My hand ...?"

"Of course ... you're going to jack me off ... do the same thing for me
... like I just did for you ... You know ..."

"Wh-What do you ... M-mean ...?" she asked.

"I'll show you!" he grunted, taking her hand and placing it on his
hardened rod, curling her hand around its chunky girth. "Now, move your
hand on it ... up and down ... until I cum!" He kept his hand around
hers and demonstrated the movement.

At the first contact of her hand with his virile young cock, she tried
to shrink away, the shock of actually touching the thing frightening to
her.

"N-No! I-I can't ... do it!" she moaned.

"Come off it, Charity! You'll either do it this way ... or suck me off!
I've got to have my fun, too!"

"S-Suck ... on that ...?" She was incredulous. "Ugh!"

He had given her a choice. She chose the former suggestion, finding it
the least disagreeable. She just couldn't imagine anyone doing it.
That's horrible! Why that's the nastiest thing I ever heard ... sucking
on a boy's t-thing!

"Sure! Millions of people do it!" he assured her.

"I don't believe it!"

"I'm just laying the facts on you! he said, exasperated. "Here ... let
me put a little spit on it!" He removed her hand for a moment while he
applied saliva to his upstanding prick. "There, now ... move your hand
... slow at first ... I'll tell you when to speed up ...!"
His hardened cock was warm in her hand; she could feel the heat it
exuded as she did his bidding, moving her hand stiffly in the up and
down motion he had shown her. Her fingers barely reached around it, and
she wondered idly how an erect penis was ever able to go into a girl's
vagina. Specifically, she wondered how it could ever fit into her own
tiny virginal cunt. She knew from examination of herself that there had
to be a disparity of size.

She knew she would not ask him that particular question; he might want
to show her, and she was not ready, yet, to lose her virginity. In the
state she had been, just a few moments, before, she might well have
allowed it, the power of the passion that had held her in its grasp had
been all-consuming. It would have been easy, she realized, now, for her
to have accepted anything, at that point ... even vaginal intercourse.
The thought was frightening. Dear God! I might have done it! I might
have let him put his thing in me ... and ... and ... It was too much.
She couldn't bring herself to complete the thought. God! She had been so
close .... and hadn't realized it, at the time!

"Christ!" he grated. "Don't try to choke it to death! Loosen up your
hand ... and let it move kind of loose like ... all the way up and down
... over the head, too!"

Trying to do it the way he instructed her, she felt it throbbing and
jerking in her hand, and somehow, there was a thrill to it ... some
undefinable feeling of erotic stimulation. She suddenly, had the idea
that there was power, force ... an animal energy in the organ itself, as
it responded to her now feathery touch. His cock expanded and throbbed
against her hand, its heat seeming to increase with the friction as she
moved on him.

Now, his hips were jerking up and back to meet her manual manipulation
of his prick, fucking her hand-substitute with jackhammer fury. Finally,
she realized that he was moving faster and faster. She tried to keep up,
but could not. Finally, holding her hand almost immovable on him, she
could only wait desperately for his explosive climax.

Charity had not noticed, earlier, that he had removed his handkerchief
from his pocket, but now, she saw it in his hand; she knew,
instinctively, what it was for, as he brought it down to hover just
above her hand curled around his racing cock. He must be very near, she
decided, feeling a definite stirring in her own being, with the
realization that she was acting as an instrument for all of this
magnificent power, a power held solely in her own tiny, trembling hand.

Suddenly, he groaned and gave a final thrust, and she could feel the
hard rod of flesh in her hand expand and begin spasmodically jerking,
pumping his white, hot and viscous cream through the tumescent tube of
his cock. Several times she felt it, a tiny, shivering thrill going
through her. At the instant of his shuddering climax, he had brought the
handkerchief down to cover the head, catching the sperm in its
enveloping shroud. She was slightly disappointed that she could not
actually see it ... see it and feel it as it spewed forth, but she
understood his concern for their clothing and the interior of his car.
Then, some of the warm, sticky fluid ran down onto her hand, and she
could smell the pungent male odor of him in the confines of the car. She
found it not at all unpleasant, now, and she was completely surprised at
herself. What had come over her? Was it because she had helped to give
him pleasure? She didn't know ... and slowly, reluctantly, she released
him.

She finished her preparations for bed, snapped out the light and crawled
in between the sheets. Tossing and turning, restlessly for several
minutes, she was finally claimed by sleep from sheer fatigue. Hers had
been a full day.

Charity had been aware of the sexual activities in her parents' bedroom
for several years. She had been about six years old, when curiosity had
overcome her, and she had walked into their bedroom in the midst of a
particularly passionate scene. Her father had punished her, severely,
paddling her little, bare bottom and telling her she must never come
into their bedroom, again, at night. She had been so thoroughly
frightened and chastised that she had never considered the possibility
of spying on them, again. True, she had heard them; it was difficult not
to have heard, because the flimsy walls of the old house made that kind
of privacy impossible.

When she had awakened that fateful evening, hearing voices in her
parents' bedroom, she assumed that it was her father and mother who made
them. They did often make love very late in the evening, or in the early
hours of the morning; her mother's work schedule, of course, must have
been the determining factor.

She was suddenly disturbed, however, when she became aware that tonight
her mother was talking to someone, not her father! It was a strange man.
She was sure of it. She would have known her father's voice, anywhere,
anytime ... and she could think of no valid reason why her mother should
be having a strange man in her bedroom at this very late hour. Words
were not clearly distinguishable to her, and, finally, her curiosity
could no longer be held at bay. She had to see who it was!

Her heart pounding with both fear and apprehension, she slipped out of
her bed and padded, softly, into the connecting bathroom. She stood near
the door leading into her parents' bedroom, ears straining to hear the
trend of the conversation and trying to identify, if she could, who the
strange man might possibly be. There was not the slightest suspicion in
her mind concerning why the man might be there.

There was several minutes of relative silence on the other side of the
closed door. Then, the sounds of rustling bedsheets, the slight squeak
of bedsprings came to her, and afterwards there was the sound of low,
mewling moans, followed by her mother's voice. It was unmistakable, now!
The strange man in her mother's bedroom was having sexual intercourse
with her mother. The realization of it shocked her. Her mind spun. She
was dizzy and she grasped the wash basin to maintain her balance. Her
mother's words were distinct. She had actually heard her mother say
them: "OH, THAT'S SO GOOD! FUCK ME ... N-NOW! OH, FUCK ME!"

Mom! Oh, Dear God! My mother! ... It's my mother ... another man ... and
he's doing it to her! Oh, God ... my own mom .... committing adultery!
That's what it is ... when a woman does it with another m-man ... a man
who's not her own husband! Oh, Mom! Why? Why are you doing it? Why are
you ... ch-cheating on daddy? Why, oh WHY?

Unbidden tears welled into her eyes and streamed, unnoticed down her
smooth, young cheeks. An overwhelming feeling of shame flooded through
her ... a feeling that her mother had no right to do what she was doing.

that, somehow, her mother's lewd act involved her, also. It was, in her
mind, as though her mother had betrayed her ... betrayed her in the
cheapening act of taking another man into her bed, into her father's
rightful place.

Again, her mother's voice came to her where she stood listening at the
connecting bathroom door. Her mother's voice was different. It was
agonized, strained ... straining and full of desire and passion. "FUCK
ME, GOD DAMN IT! YOU'RE ONLY TEASING ME .... FRUSTRATING ME! I WANT YOUR
C-COCK FUCKING ME IN THE CUNT! COME ON! FUCK ME ... THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE
HERE FOR ... ISN'T IT?"

Charity was shocked again. She hadn't realized that her mother could use
such language. On rare occasion, she had heard her father use those
obscene words -- Donnie used them, too -- but never had she heard her
mom use the vile words. Dear God!

Her mother was answering, "ALL RIGHT ... I GUESS I CAN S-SUCK YOU OFF!"

"YOU MISUNDERSTOOD ME! I SAID THAT I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU IN THE MOUTH!
GET UP ON THE BED!"

A horrible vision of the humiliating act the stranger described passed
through Charity's mind. She shuddered. Dear God! That's awful ... I-It's
obscene ... and d-dirty! How could mom ... d-do it ...? Ugh!

Her mother's voice, again: "MY GOD ... THAT'S INHUMAN ..."

Charity heard the loud crack of flesh being slapped, cruelly. Oh! He's
slapping her ... forcing her to do it!

There was the faint rustling sound of a body moving on the bed, the
groan of the bedsprings as the second person got onto the bed. That
would be the man, she decided.

"THAT'S MORE LIKE IT! WHEN I PAY A WHORE ... I EXPECT HER TO DO WHAT I
WANT TO DO ... OTHERWISE, THERE'S GOING TO BE HELL TO PAY!"

The anguish in the girl's heart was immeasurable! Her senses whirled,
and for several moments, it seemed, her whole life went into a tailspin,
crashing to earth with tremendous force. She was crushed. The knowledge
was almost unbearable that her own mother was nothing but a prostitute,
a whore ... a woman of the streets .... a low woman. Her own mother had
sunk to the lowest rung of humanity!

Again, the stranger was speaking: "OPEN YOUR MOUTH, BABY, OR DO YOU WANT
ANOTHER ACROSS THE FACE?!"

"GOD, N-NO ...!" Her mother.

There was a few moments of silence on the other side of the closed door
before the man spoke again. "YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND SUCK LIKE THAT ... IF
YOU WANT TO, BUT I'M GOING TO DO THE WORK, BABY! I'M GOING TO RAM MY
COCK DOWN THAT SWEET MOUTH OF YOURS ... FUCK YOUR MOUTH LIKE A CUNT!"

In her shocked and stunned condition, Charity moved as one in a trance.
There was something in her that made her want to see for herself ... her
eyes, alone, would give the lie to her ears. It wasn't really possible
that her mother could allow herself to be debased in such an unnatural
and cruel way! Stealthily, her hand crept to the doorknob and found it
in the darkness. She turned the knob, praying that it would make no
noise. The door opened, silently, and swung toward her an inch or two,
her eye peering through the crack with fright, the fear pounding in her.
It was not necessarily the fear of being discovered in her spying,
although that was something she did not want; rather, it was the fear
that her eyes would reveal the corroborative truth of that which her
ears had already heard.

The bedroom was dimly lighted, but she could see, clearly, the obscene
tableau on her parents' bed. Her mother was stripped completely naked;
her white, tapering thighs spread wide to reveal the moist, pink furrow
of her femaleness, and the nude, solid and stock figure of the stranger
sat astride her mother's chest, her full, rounded breasts crushed,
cruelly, under his fleshy buttocks. Then, her frightened, watching eyes
swung to her mother's face where she saw the lewd spectacle of the
thick, hard penis that was absorbed to the hilt in the tiny,
red-lipsticked and ovaled lips of her mother's mouth.

Oh, God! It's true! He's doing it ... doing what he said he was going to
do! He's got his thing in morn's mouth ... and ... and ... d-doing it
like he would down b-below ... i-in her v-vagina ....!

Charity watched, now with perverse fascination, as she saw the man begin
to withdraw his hardened rod until just the head of it remained just
inside her mother's mouth, and she saw that the inner flesh of her lips
was pulled out, a ragged line of the tender, pink flesh showing around
the thick hugeness of him. He was speaking, again, now: "NOW, KEEP YOUR
LIPS JUST LIKE THAT ... TIGHT, BUT NOT TOO TIGHT!"

She saw her mother's lips turn in, now, the flesh stuffed back in, as
the hard rod of male flesh slid deeply into her mouth and throat,
burying itself far down into the confines of her warm working throat.
Again, he withdrew it, only to plunge his rampaging cock powerfully down
and in, between the cruelly tortured lips of her mother's roundly
stretched mouth, until she was sure that she would gag or suffocate with
the unnatural invasion.

Then, he established a regular rhythm, fucking in and out with long,
powerful strokes, his cock disappearing each time, until his bristly
pubic hair covered her mother's nose and mouth, and she saw her mother
close her eyes.

Did she close her eyes in shame ... to blot out the lewd debasement to
which she was being subjected ... or was it because of erotic
stimulation, a perverse, masochistic pleasure she obtained from the lewd
act? Charity didn't know, could not fathom her mother's reaction to this
whole sordid affair. What would she, Charity, have done ... if she were
in her mother's place? Swiftly, the thought came and went. She tried to
visualize herself in her mother's place. It was useless. She could not
imagine it ... could not take her mother's position and allow such an
obscene act to be perpetrated upon her.

Mom ... how can you let it go on? Dear God ... sh-should I do something
... make a noise ... let them find out that I-I've been watching ...
a-and make a big s-scene ...? I-I could do it real easy ... but, then
... Mom would kn-know that I-I know a-all about h-her ... and what good
would that d-do ...?

The girl knitted her brows in deep thought as she watched. Her decision
was a hard one to make, but, instinctively, she knew that she was making
the right one. No! I-I'll never l-let her kn- know! ... But, I-I can't
stay here ... live in this h-house with h-her ... knowing what I-I d-do
...!

Now, the movement of her mother's soft, smooth, white thighs caught her
attention, and she watched with fascination as her beautifully sculpted
columns began to move, rubbing back and forth sensuously against each
other, her hips moving in undulant circles under her, erotically. This,
the young girl saw and recognized. Her mother was sexually aroused!

It was a completely surprising revelation to her; the possibility that
her mother could enjoy this unnatural oral coupling had not occurred to
her.

Then, the truth of this shocking discovery was borne out for her, as she
saw, now, that her mother's head had begun to move in Opposition to the
punishingly hard cock in her mouth, countering his fucking movements,
her lips seeming to tighten around the thick hardness of him and her
cheeks beginning to hollow in and out with vigorous sucking movements.
Oh God! Her mother was helping him! She was a participant!

Above her mom, now, the man was panting, his face contorted with the
agony of his need for release. He was moaning aloud. He spoke then, the
first sounds for several moments: "JUST A LITTLE MORE ... AND I'LL CUM
IN THAT SWEET LITTLE MOUTH OF YOURS!"

Charity watched as he slid his knees back and lay flat on her mother's
face, his hips flexing up and down, driving his lust- inflated prick
ever deeper into her tightly locked lips and the young girl marveled
that her mother was not suffocated from the brutality of his
pile-driving actions. Her mother gasped for breath and writhed under
him, her thighs splaying out, almost as though they begged for
something. It happened then! Charity knew what her mother felt. She was
unfulfilled and frustrated. Her mother's thighs were spread to receive a
penis she could not get, and as she watched, her mother provided it for
herself!

Her mom's hand snaked downward to the moist, blatantly throbbing mouth
of her cunt, three fingers held closely together, forming, roughly, a
stiff substitute with which to fill her demanding pussy. Charity
watched, disgust filling her as her mother's fingers ground deeply into
her own voracious depths, matching the rhythm of the huge penile
presence in her mouth. Then, her other hand moved on her clitoris, and
together, both hands worked there, lewdly, faster and faster, her
fingers jabbing almost savagely into her open, hair-fringed cunt.

Suddenly, she saw the man's body stiffen, and the horrified young girl
knew that he must have reached his climax, his sperm pumping through his
swollen cock deep into her mother's mouth. She saw her mother struggling
to swallow it as his ejaculate spewed from him. She decided, at that
instant, that she had seen enough and heard enough of the depravity
going on in her mom's bedroom.

Sick at heart, she turned away and padded through the other connecting
door into her own bedroom and closed it, softly, to blot out the scene
that was rapidly coming to an end. Then, the girl threw herself full
length on her bed and sobbed softly into the crook of her arm, reaching
for a corner of the pillow to stuff into her mouth when she feared that
her grief would be heard in the other bedroom by her mother. Never would
she allow her mother to know that she had spied on her. Oh, Mom ... why?
Why? WHY? Charity, of course, would never know how that scene ended.

Chapter 5

After several minutes, her emotional storm was over, and she lay
dry-eyed, on her back, now, staring up into the darkness of her lonely
room. She was alone, she had decided. No more, would it be possible for
her to re-kindle a feeling of warmth in her for her mother. There is a
thin dividing line between love and hate, and Charity felt disgust,
betrayal and contempt for her mother, at that moment. Did she hate her
mother? Most probably, she did. Her youthful idealism had been
shattered, brutally, within a few moments, as she discovered that her
mother had feet of clay. The mother who had nurtured her and trained her
had become, suddenly, the lowest creature on the earth, and the girl did
not know why ... perhaps would never know why her mother had done what
she had done. The youth that was Charity was all too ready to condemn
... ready to hang a label ... ready to hate what she had loved. Later,
perhaps, with maturity of thought on her part, she would be able to
reason it out, but at this excruciatingly painful moment in her life,
she could only feel ... feel the betrayal and the sudden hate; most of
all, she felt the aloneness, as though she were lost in a trackless
forest, her last dismal hope of rescue gone as the wild animals seemed
to close in on her, their cries echoing in the blackness of the night.

The roar of Donnie's motorcycle crackled in the still darkness. She
listened as he parked his bike and heard his footsteps as he walked
along the side of the house, passing her window, on his way to his
sleeping porch cubicle at the rear of the small cottage.

Donnie! Donnie, her little brother, was all she had, now. Suddenly, she
didn't feel so alone. He would understand how she felt. She had to talk
to someone, and Donnie was the only one she could talk to, now. Her
heart was so near to bursting that she had to share her burden with him,
ask him to prop her up, give her the moral support she needed. Yes! She
would have to lean on Donnie .... because it was just the two of them,
now!

She listened, carefully, straining her ears to catch any sound coming
from her parents' bedroom. There was none, and she assumed that the
strange man had left, for, surely, she reasoned, her mom would not allow
him to stay with her for the rest of the night.

Slipping quietly from her bed, she slipped from her room, threading her
way, carefully, through the dining room and kitchen to the back porch.
Unexplainably, her heart was beating wildly, and she realized that she
had not thought through how she would tell her brother about what she
had seen and heard in her mom's bedroom. Her face flushed. She could
feel the warmth rising from her neck to her hairline. How could she tell
him? What should she tell? Bear God! It was such a delicate subject. How
could she bring herself to tell even her brother that their own mother
was a common whore?

She stood, silently, before her brother's closed bedroom door collecting
her thoughts and her composure. Inside, she heard Donnie moving about,
and she assumed that he was preparing for bed. She hesitated. Should she
bother him, now? Her own agitation was too great, she decided. She had
to talk to him, tonight! Dear God! She felt that she would go out of her
mind, if she did not talk to someone ... someone who would listen.
Someone who would be sympathetic.

Charity tapped lightly on Donnie's door. "Don ... can I talk to you
...?" she murmured in a half whisper.

There was a moment of silence, then she heard him answer, "Sure ... why
not?" The door opened, his rather grim face poked out at her, and he
held the door open for her. She walked in. He closed the door, looking
at her guardedly for a long moment before he asked. "What's with, Sis
...? You look all uptight and strung out?"

She turned to him, her eyes beginning to mist, again, "D- Donnie ...
I've got to talk t-to y-you ...! I-I saw ... S-saw ..." She stopped,
unable to continue for a moment. She swayed against him. Instinctively,
Donnie caught her in his arms, her soft body molding itself to him; he
could feel the trembling of her limbs and knew that she had experienced
something that had severely upset her. It was nothing trivial.

Sobbing softly against his shoulder, she said, "J-Just a minute ... or
two ... and I'll be able to tell you ..."

Don held his sister close while she sobbed, inconsolably. He stood
awkwardly, his arms around her, not knowing what to do for her. He had
the strange feeling, suddenly, that he felt closer to his sister, in
that instant, than he had ever felt before in his life. He stroked her
back with his hand, hoping that it would stem the flow of her tears, and
as he did so, he became, increasingly, aware of her lovely young
womanliness. The supple, pliant flesh of her back, under the thin
material of her nightgown, was warm and smooth to his touch. His hand
drifted almost naturally down to the curving swell of her round, firm
buttocks, feeling them silky under his hand. God! His sister's body was
really something else! He had never held her close, like this, before,
and unbidden, unwanted, he felt the sudden flood of his pounding blood
into the flaccid tube of his penis. His cock rose to partial erection,
quickly. It throbbed and jerked in the confines of his jeans, and he
decided that he shouldn't be that close to her. She would certainly be
aware of its erect condition in just a moment.

He murmured, "Let's sit down, Sis ..."

She nodded her head in agreement. Together, they sat down on the edge of
his bed. He tried to pull away from her, but she clung to him, almost as
a child would cling to its mother.

"Come on, Char ..." he said, "lay it on me ...! What's bugging you so
much?"

Charity pulled back from him then, wiping and dabbing at her eyes to
clear them of tears. She drew a couple of deep breaths; a deep sigh
followed. Her smile was weak but brave; she felt as though she could
control herself, now. The flooding torrent of tears, she realized, was
only the womanly side of her showing. Now, she would have to be
objective ... describe what she had seen and get her brother's reaction
and views concerning it. Objectivity, she recited to herself ...
objectivity and reason had to be applied to this, as to any other
problem.

She pulled her feet up and sat back on her spine, doubling her knees and
hugging them to her. In this position, she rocked back and forth for a
moment. She could talk, now, and she began: "It was just awful, Donnie
... what I saw ... tonight! That's why I-I was so upset ..."

Donnie lounged back on the narrow bed, pulling his own knees up, as he
lay on his side facing his sister. He looked up at her and said, "Yeah
... I know ... the waterworks and all that ... but what in hell did you
see ...? You haven't said anything ... yet!"

"Well ... mom came home, as usual ... but there was this man with her
... and they were in the bedroom ... and he was ..."

"Fucking her?"

"Donnie ... please!" she chided, the sound of the word offensive to her.
"Yes ..." she went on after a moment, "only he .... d-didn't do it ...
like you'd expect ... h-he put his thing in her m-mouth ..."She turned
away, her embarrassment flooding in on her, again.

Donnie was blase, unimpressed, "So? She sucked him off?" he said,
spreading his hands and lifting his shoulders. "What's the big deal
...?"

"You Christ, Sis ... how'd you get along? You haven't even tried to be a
part of it ... you don't know how to talk ... or act .... or dress ...
or anything! You're square!"

Her eyes began to mist, again. "Then, y-you won't t-take m-me ....?"

"Hell! I didn't say that ... but you've got a lot to learn!"

"Then ... you c-can teach me!" she brightened, leaning forward and
planting a kiss, impulsively, on his cheek.

Don stared at his lovely sister, his mind racing, heart thumping,
wildly, while down below, his virile penis throbbed, achingly. He
couldn't believe the havoc her innocent kiss played on his emotions.
Could he do it? Christ! He wasn't sure! She was his own sister! And,
what he felt for her wasn't just love for a sibling.

No! It was much more. She was a beautifully budding young woman, a woman
to be loved ... loved well, with the hardened rod of his maleness. He
wanted her. He had to have her!

With a trembling hand, he reached out to her and gently pulled her down
beside him on the bed. His voice was hoarse. "Char ... how much ... do
you want to learn ...?" he asked.

He knew, then, that she was not ready to go the route he was thinking
about, but maybe she could be brought around to it. He knew a way to it.
His own experience and what he had learned from other kids, as well as
what had been written in various popular magazines, told him that the
turn-on from pot was the way to reduce inhibitions ... intensify desire
and add to the pleasure of sex. Should he try it on her? Damn! He ached
to find out. She was so God damned beautiful ... so innocent and
virginal! And, if she really wanted to go on the street with him, she'd
have to know all about grass and sex. Anyway, he rationalized, I could
lay it on her right! Make he understand it ... and like it ... Hell!
It'd be better if I did it ... instead of some heavy dude that might
mistreat her!

He allowed her to sit up, then sat up, himself, facing her with a
serious face. "Listen," he said, "you know ... almost all the street
people blow grass ... POP pills or drop acid."

"Yes ... I-I've heard all about th-that.

"Everybody to their own bag like ... but I don't go the pill or acid
route ... or the hard stuff, you know, H for heroin. People blow their
minds that way! ... And it's not worth it ... so stay away from it!
Don't let yourself get strung out!"

Charity struggled to understand his jargon. She got most of it; she
heard it a great deal, not only from Donnie but from her classmates;
however, she had made no effort to speak in that manner herself.

She cocked her head to one side and surveyed him, gravely. "What you're
saying then ... is that marijuana ... i-is the only one that's s-safe
...?"

"Yeah ... and a hell of a lot cheaper!"

"Isn't it against the law?"

"Sure ... but some day the laws could change ... and pot's the only one
that's got a chance of being legal ...!" he explained.

"Why?"

"Nobody's ever really proved that it's bad for you ... or that it leads
people to the hard stuff!" he rationalized.

"H-How do y-you know ...?" she queried.

"Christ! I've been blowing grass for over a year!"

She was aghast ... completely surprised at his admission. She could only
gasp, "Donnie!"

"That's what I mean ... it doesn't string you out ... up or down! When
it wears off after a couple of hours ... you're right where you were
before. No after-effects ... no side-effects!"

"You make it s-sound ... sort of ... well, you know ... n-nice ...." she
murmured.

This was it, he decided. He would lay it on her. She just might be
ready, now. His selling job must be working. Casually, he arose from the
bed, ignoring the fact of the distinct bulge in his jeans where his
throbbing cock demanded release, and walked to his bureau. In a moment,
he had one of the joints he had hidden there. Holding it carefully in
his hand, he turned to his sister and said, "I'm going to toke up ...
You can blow some with me ... if you want ... but I've got to trust you!
I don't want you to go spilling your guts about it! It's got to be
secret ... just between you and me ... O.K.?"
Her eyes widened in surprise and a fleeting look of fright passed over
her face. "Y-You've g-got some of i-it ... here?"

Swiftly, he checked the curtains at the window, making sure they were
closed, then locked the door. He held up the homemade roach for her to
see. "Yeah ... right here!"

In wide-eyed fascination, Charity watched as her brother sat down,
again, beside her, extracted a book of paper matches from his pocket and
lit the marijuana cigarette, drawing the sweet-smelling smoke deeply
into his lungs, holding it there for long moments before releasing it
then exhaling the bluish-grey smoke with controlled slowness. He smiled
at her.

"You ever try smoking, yet?"

She crimsoned. "Yes ... I-I didn't I-like it ...!"

"This's even easier ... than regular tobacco, Sis," He drew a deep
breath. "Want to blow a little?"

The rich smoke he had exhaled so close to her gave her a heady feeling.
She couldn't help inhaling some of it; it was thick in the small room,
already. She nodded her no.

He took another deep puff, going through the same ritual of deep
inhalation, holding and slow exhalation, blowing the smoke, purposely,
into her face.

"I-It smells funny ..." she observed.

"It'll relax you ..." he said, languidly. "It makes the whole world
beautiful ... for a little while. There's no problems ... and there's
nothing but love ... The whole world is love ... and everybody loves
everybody. What mom does ... isn't important anymore! This's where it's
at ... the turn-on to love ... and beautiful things ... for beautiful
people!"

Her brother's voice, somehow softer, more musical ... almost lyrical,
washed over her, mesmerizing her, and she saw that he was being
influenced, already, by the narcotic effects of the marijuana. She
realized, too, that he was seeing things that were presently barred to
her. He was in a world far distant from hers .... in a world of love and
beauty. True, it was a world of unreality, but the reality of this
world, the part of it she had witnessed only a little while before, had
been too much for her. That was the reason she was here, in Donnie's
bedroom. She had felt so alone that she had come to him. For solace?
Yes. For sympathy? Yes ... But, Donnie wasn't there with her, now. He
had fled ... or was he leading her? At any rate, she knew that the real
Don was not here; he was experiencing another world, a world from which
he was beckoning her, urging her to follow him there to bask in the pure
sunshine of that other place. Oh, God? Dare she follow him? The bridge
over which she must cross was a flimsy one. It was only smoke, and yet
... it was the way. She could see it hanging in layers in the room. No
... perhaps it was not a bridge, after all. The smoke from his roach was
an elevator. She looked up into the dimness above the light. What was
there? She didn't know. Could she reach out to the smoke, grasp it and
pull herself, carefully, over to the other side where Donnie waited? If
she did not ... she would be more alone than ever, and he was all she
had, now. She bad to be with Donnie. Oh, God ... I've got to find
Donnie, again!

With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his arm. "D- Donnie
...?" Her voice was small, the voice of a frightened little girl. "I-I'm
so s-scared ... and l-lonely ..."

He gave her a bemused look. "Here's where it is ... Sis! It's in the
smoke! It's the smoke that sets you free! You want to turn on ... now?"
He extended the joint to her.

For a moment, she looked at it with next to loathing. The thing he was
offering to her could be a monster in disguise. She was truly
frightened.

"Here! Take it!" he said. "It's the only way you'll ever find out!" He
put the cigarette between her fingers.

Suddenly, she knew. He was reaching out to her from that other, more
beautiful place; he was reaching out to her and almost, literally,
dragging her into it. Dear God!

She held the burning marijuana cigarette in her own hand and stared at
it, unable to bring herself to put it to her own lips.

"None!" he assured. "... And, it'll be everything I told you it would
be! I wouldn't lie to you!" He stifled an urge to put the narcotic
cigarette in her mouth for her, force her to smoke it, but he knew he
couldn't do it that way. She would have to make that final move of her
own volition. That final decision had to be hers.

Hesitantly, Charity raised her hand, the roach held awkwardly between
her fingers, as she brought the wet end of the paper tube to her lips,
placed it between them and inhaled lightly, drawing some of the smoke
into her mouth.

Don watched her with a mounting sense of elation. Christ! She's going to
do it!

She blew the smoke out of her mouth, experimentally, and Donnie said,
"You've got to draw it into your lungs and hold it for a while."

Again, she tried; this time, successfully getting the smoke into her
lungs and holding it there with determination, before she exhaled it.
She coughed. "It feels k-kind of s-strange."

"It'll start taking effect ... in just a little while." he assured her.

"H-How much does it t-take ... t-to t-turn on?"

"You know ... like maybe three or four deep drags."

She took another, deeper, longer puff on the joint, drew it deep into
her lungs, and while she was holding her breath, extended her hand to
give him back the cigarette. He took it from her and smoked in his
usual, careful style, handing it back to her, again, as she slowly
exhaled, clearly following his example and directions.

"I-I don't really f-feel any different ... yet." She was still a little
tense and frightened.

"Give it a chance, Char ... but you'll know when it starts to turn you
on."

They smoked, now, in silence, for several moments, passing the roach
back and forth between them.

She recognized the feeling of euphoria as it overtook her. There was a
feeling of well-being, but she noticed that now, although her movements
must have been normal, it seemed to take an interminably long time to
raise her hand to her mouth to take a drag. Time seemed to be standing
still.

This must be it! Like Donnie says, 'This's where it's at!' She looked at
her brother long and hard, studying his face. Strange, she had never
noticed the tiny mole just below his left eye, before, but of course, it
must have been there all the time.

Her fears began to fade. The tenseness in her muscles was vanishing. She
relaxed and lounged back against the headboard of the bed, as she
watched the patterns of the smoke in the still air of the bedroom. The
stub of the joint was getting shorter. She took a final puff and handed
it back to her brother, watching as he dragged on it, then extinguished
it carefully, saving the unsmoked portion of the dried hemp leaves and
destroying the remaining paper by chewing it to a pulp and swallowing
it.

As she watched him, she began to realize how truly handsome her younger
brother was, and again she found it strange that she had never thought
of him in that context. He's really a good looking boy ... almost a man,
I should say ... so strong and ... well, manly.

Charity closed her eyes. She knew and understood the physical reasons
for the pattern of lights she saw, seeming to appear just behind her
eyelids, but she had not known that they could be so beautiful. What was
I so scared for? There's really nothing to be afraid of ... really. It
just seems like all my senses are sharper .... and brighter ... I can
hear better ... and see better ... notice things that I never noticed
before ... that is what seems so strange.

Opening her eyes, she looked directly into her brother's penetrating
blue ones. He had shifted his position to lie back against the headboard
beside her, leaning over her, Slightly. He grinned at her engagingly and
said, "Sis ... are you starting to feel it, now? Is it turning you on?"

"I don't know ... Donnie." she said with languor, no trace of the former
slight stutter of fear in her voice.

Then, matter-of-factly, he told her, "When you're turned on .... all the
way ... we're going to make love! I'm going to fuck you!"

She, strangely, felt no surprise at his words. It was as though she had
expected them, or her normal reaction to them was thwarted, turned
aside, as it were, for in a perfectly civilized conversational tone, she
answered. "We can't do that! Remember .... I'm your sister ..."

But, she experienced a tingle of excitement, a tiny tremor in her, and
she was aware of it like a minute spark struck from a piece of flint
against hard steel. She was the tinder box into which the spark of an
idea was directed. She had no idea how powerful that one spark would be!

"We'll just forget that ... anyway, it's been done lots of times ... by
other brothers and sisters ..."

"Who ... for instance."

He thought a moment. "The Pharoahs of Ancient Egypt!" he said.

"Well ... we're not Ancient Egyptians!" She didn't really feel like
arguing the point. All she felt like doing was relaxing and letting the
feelings of euphoria wash over her.

"We could pretend ..."

"Pretend what ...?"

"That we were Pharoahs!"

"Let's talk about something else, Donnie ... something like the musical
I'm going to sing the lead in."

"I told you I thought it was great ... didn't I? Let's talk about sex!
Did you ever see this?" He grinned lewdly, as he pulled a book from
under the edge of his mattress. Opening it, he showed her the graphic
pictures of sexual intercourse with all its variants. Consistently, all
of the women were beautiful and shapely, and all of the men were endowed
with penile members of monstrous proportions.

Idly, she glanced at the photographs as he turned the pages. They did
not really interest her, until she saw one depicting fellatio.

"That's what mom ... and that man were doing ... except that he made all
the motions with his hips ... And ..."

"He was actually fucking her in the mouth ...?" Don filled in her
incomplete thought.

"I wish you wouldn't use that word ... It's awful sounding!" she said.
"Anyway, that's what he said he was going to do ... and he did! I don't
see how mom could ..."

"Could stand it?"

"Yes."

"She probably liked it ... most women do, after they learn to do it!" he
instructed.

"Ugh!" She made a face of distaste.

"Don't knock it! Did the guy have a big cock?"

"Please ... Donnie! Do you have to be vulgar all the time?"

"Like I said, Char ... you're going to have to learn all the words!" he
said. "Did he have a big prick?"

"How would I know! It was sort of short and fat like!" She indicated its
dimensions with her hands. "I think," she added.

"Was it bigger than mine, Char?" he asked, boldly reaching down to
loosen his belt and unzip his jeans, then dipping a hand in to release
his erect, throbbing penis and bringing it out into full view.
Instinctively, Charity looked away, at first, but at his next words she
looked down, fastening her eyes on it in amazement.

"Look at it, Char!" he had snapped.

"Oh, God! No ... you're much bigger!" she gasped, unaware that her
little brother had developed so much.

"Have you ever touched a cock, before?"

She blushed, instantly, and looked away. "Do I have to answer that?"
countering with a question.

"I guess that tells me! Who was it, somebody I know?"

Remembering, with a rush, the orgasm Bill Cartwright had brought her to,
and the subsequent ejaculation she had induced with her hand, she became
aware that there was that same warm glow in her loins. All of Donnie's
talk of sex, the memory of Bill ... and above all, the still present
impression of the lewd sex act she bad witnessed involving her mother,
all of these, in addition to the inhalation of the smoke from the
marijuana cigarette, were working on her, insidiously, pushing her
nearer and ever nearer the brink of sexual desire. She squirmed her
thighs together to stem the rising tide of her passion. It was only a
tiny movement, but Don saw it and knew that she was becoming aroused,
that it would be only a matter of a few minutes before she would be
ready, and, hopefully, willing to give up her virginity to him. Don was
certain, in his own mind, now, that he would carry it through to
completion. Christ! He had to, now! He was so damned hot, himself, he
didn't know whether he would be able to wait any longer, but he had told
himself that he would go slow, make it good for her, too; after all, he
didn't want to force her. It was bad enough=8B=8Btaboo=8B=8Bthat he
wanted to fuck his sister, but he sure as hell didn't want to be accused
of rape! She had to be willing to give her consent!

"Really, Donnie!" She was exasperated. "I-I just used my hand to, to
..."

"Jerk him off ...?"

"I think the right word is ... masturbate!" she said, huffily. "... And,
he did the same thing to me!"

"Well, lay it on me, my sweet sister isn't so innocent after all!" he
taunted, playfully, reaching over to her and cupping a round, proudly
upthrusting breast in his hand.

His touch was fiery to her. The sensation seared her, scorching down
through her belly to burn brightly and furiously in her already warmly
inflamed young pussy. She tried to shrink back away from him, but he
followed, keeping his hand on her and feeling the bud of her nipple
expand and grow under his hand. Then, he rolled the tumescent tip
rapidly between his thumb and forefinger, before he left it to do
likewise to its mate.

"Brother-sister, right-or-wrong! To hell with it! Who cares! It's right
now that counts ...! And sex is good! Sex is beautiful! You didn't tell
me ... but I'd bet that mom was turned on, tonight ... flipped out
coming to orgasm ... wasn't she?" he pressed.

Charity remembered the scene, vividly. "She was cooperating .... then,
at the last she used her fingers on herself ... to ..."

"She finger-fucked herself to cum?"

"Y-Yes ..."

Her brother's hand began to move, slowly and deliberately down across
her flat stomach, the feel of his hand as hot as a searing branding
iron. She squirmed and drew her legs up to impede his progress toward
the soft, sparsely curling hair of her pubic mound. She couldn't deny
the sensual, salaciousness of his caress; it was even more intense than
the time she had allowed young Cartwright to use his hand on her there.
It was a thrill, almost a near spasm of lewd sensation that surged
through her, and in her present state, under the influence of the
marijuana, it seemed that eons of time passed, during which she savored
every never-ending message of sexuality as his hand passed so slowly and
searingly over her vibrant body. The thin material of her nightgown
might as well have been non-existent as she experienced his exploration
of her genital mound.

But, even through the narcotic fog in her brain, there was a still,
small hesitant signal from across all civilized time, a signal that came
down to her through the long line of past generations, a signal that
said: This is taboo! It is wrong for sister to lie with brother in
sexual congress! This you must not do! Thou shalt not ...!

Oh, God ...? I can't let this go on! It'll end in only one way, and it's
wrong! I can't let my own brother do it to me! It's incest!

With a supreme effort of will, she twisted away from him, removing his
searching hand with her own, swung her legs to the floor and stood to
her feet, her eyes flashing as she told him, "N- No, Donnie! God no!
I-It's unthinkable!"

She was not fast enough. Donnie caught her around the waist as he moved,
quickly, to sit on the edge of his bed. His hands moved to encircle her
hips in lithely powerful arms, drawing her in close to him, his hands,
simultaneously, slipping down to grasp the full roundedness of her
buttocks, massaging and kneading the firm young cheeks with his strong
fingers. He laid his head against her breasts and blurted, "Christ, Char
...! Don't run out on me, now! The party's just beginning! It's too late
to run, I've gotten so hot I've got to fuck you! ... And, I know you're
hot, too! You want it just as much as I do ... so why don't you relax
... really let yourself get turned on ... and enjoy it!"

He went on, "Anyway ... it'd be better ... if you did it with me ... for
the first time ...! Better than with some goon who'd mistreat you! Let
me show you, Char! You'll love it ... once you decide to do it!"

Don reached down, grasped the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up over
her hips, exposing her loins completely to his aroused gaze. Swiftly,
then, he slid from the bed to his knees, swinging her around with him
and keeping a firm hold on the rounded fullness of her smooth-skinned
buttocks. He bent his head back, slightly, as he sat back on his heels
to bring his face close up to the vee of her crotch; then, with tongue
extended, he moved deliberately, letting it slide into the top of her
hair-encircled vaginal slit, pressuring the tip of it inward and parting
the outer, fleshy lips to find the tiny, erect shaft of her clitoris.

Summer lightning played there in her loins where he probed and licked,
and an involuntary gasp of pleasure escaped Charity's lips. She stared
downward at him to where his face was buried in the dark, auburn curls
of her pubic mound and felt the searing sensations wash over her, not
understanding how it was that her own brother could evince such intense
feelings of sexuality in her.

She was alive, suddenly, with sensation, her whole body, it seemed,
suffused with the tingling warmth of the keening nerve endings that sent
their messages of promised rapture to her brain, overriding all other
rational signals to the thinking brain. She felt! She existed in the
sensate, only; her whole body was inflamed with desire, a wanton craving
for fulfillment. Never had she known such intensity, before, as the
ravaging tongue of her own brother brought her to full sexual arousal.
God! She could feel the moist warmth of his pillaging tongue and the
grasping, smoothing and massaging of his strong hands as they moved,
constantly, in their caressing of her buttocks, hips and smooth,
tapering thighs, and she was being driven wild with desire. Suddenly,
she knew! She wanted it. She wanted it just as much as Don did! Oh, God!
Forgive me! It's wrong! It's depraved b-but I can't help it ... I can't
help myself ...!

She made one last effort to forestall what she knew now had to happen;
indeed, it must happen or she would go insane.

"P-Please ... Don ... w-we can't! We m-mustn't ...!"

Her brother moved his head back, momentarily, and said, thickly, "It's
too late ... Char! We're both beyond the point of no return! Hell
couldn't stop it, now!"

Her rational mind -- at least, a portion of it that still functioned --
recognized a certain truth in what he said, and she knew that the
juggernaut of sexual desire that they had released was plunging forward
and downward with inexorable speed and force, carrying them with it in
its mad, wild, careening course. They could do nothing to stop it! They
were trapped in a sensate tangle of illicit, salacious sexuality. Dear
God!

Quiveringly, her hands that had gripped his shoulders moved up to cradle
either side of his head, pressing his face in close to her trembling
loins, unconsciously, giving him her tacit permission to continue;
indeed, her hands pressuring against the back of his head urged him on
to even greater effort, as his tongue plunged wildly in and out of her
sensate cuntal furrow, sliding easily along the short length of her
female bud, the seat of womanly sex.

... And, again, unconsciously and instinctively, she relaxed the tension
in her leg muscles, allowing her thighs to spread submissively apart as
she moved her feet to a wider stance on the rug and her pelvis tipped up
with the flexing of her hips to begin a tiny countering back and forth
motion to the in-and-out movement of her brother's hungrily licking
tongue.

She moaned, Softly, the building ecstasy almost too much to bear, but
there was another flash of lingering abhorrence that swept through her,
a momentary emergency of conscience that tried to tell her: Stop! Stop
before it's too late! But even as the swift signal reached her mind,
there was the jamming counter-signal of the prurient, salacious desires
that agitated her loins, demanding, commanding her immediate compliance.
The moment was lost! Nothing remained but the potential rapture of
wanton joy in their illicit sex act. It was too late! Forgive me! Dear
God forgive me!

Her brother stood to his feet, then, sliding his arms up around her,
carrying the hem of her nightgown up and over the full round firmness of
her breasts, and, automatically, she lifted her arms over her head,
reluctantly allowing him to remove the thin garment from her vibrant,
young body. He tossed the gown to the top of his dresser, carelessly,
and swept her into his sinewy arms.

Charity felt herself crushed against his hard, youthful body, her naked
breasts mashed flat, Painfully, between them, while below, the hardness
of his fully erect, throbbing penis pressed into her abdomen, the heat
of it being transmitted to the sensitive skin of her belly. She found
herself, then, reciprocating, as in spite of lingering fear, her arms
went around him, her hands moving in caresses of affection and love up
and down his back, her face tilting up voluntarily for his kiss.

His lips sought hers, found them and welded themselves to her
half-opened mouth, his tongue snaking out to burst voraciously between
her lips. Her taste buds, sensate and sharpened by the marijuana,
detected the flavor of her own vaginal secretions on his tongue, and she
wondered at its zest, savoring it. A sudden half- thought overtook her.
What does his taste like? Somehow, she found the thought erotic, in the
extreme. She wanted to taste it, now! Under the present aegis, she was
propelled toward the desire; however, she would have been hard pressed
to explain it, for just a few moments previous she would have cringed
away from the idea, just as she had been outraged to witness her
mother's participation in a lewd oral sex act. A change had taken place
in her. Now, she looked forward to it. She wanted to take her brother's
excited young cock in her mouth to suck ... to love ... to give him what
she knew now must be a wonderfully satisfying sexual sensation She
guessed it, fathomed it, by her new-found knowledge of herself, as Don's
tongue had licked her between the thighs to wild, wanton desire.

Suddenly, she felt as though her legs would no longer support her; they
quivered, and she felt them giving way under her. A hand went out to the
edge of the bed to keep herself from falling as a wave of dizziness
overcame her.

Don, aware that she needed to be lying down, Supported and helped her
onto the bed, then, began, hastily to strip his own clothing from his
eager, anticipating body. As he stood tail above her, he devoured the
perfection of her lush, Young nakedness, his eyes roving over her taking
in every detail of the voluptuous beauty of her. Christ! She's the most!

"God damn it, Sis ... You've really got it!" he said.

Charity writhed on the bed in an agony of need, watching as her brother
stripped naked before her, standing finally, lithe, lean and muscular,
his hard, fleshy penis standing out in virile erection at an acute
angle, aiming itself at his navel, while below his testicles, she
noticed had been drawn up taut within his scrotum. Oh, his penis is so
huge! I-It'll never be able to fit inside me! There's never been
anything bigger than my finger in there!

He noted the intent direction of her gaze and grinned at her. "Bet
you're worried ... Aren't you ...?" he asked.

"W-Worried ... about what, Donnie?"

"I saw you eyeing my cock, and I got the idea you were worried about
whether I'd be able to get it in."

In spite of her trembling body, she had to smile at him; she was not
sure whether it was a case of mind-reading or a case of inflated ego.
Lightly, she returned, "There is a difference in size, that is ..."

Charity loved her brother, more than ever, from that instant; his
seeming concern for her, in the face of his own great need, overwhelmed
her. Thank God! He was not going to ram his big thing in her right away;
instead, he was going to be slow and gentle, just as he had said he
would be.

"Oh, Don ... oh, my Donnie ..." she murmured.

Then, he was beside her on the bed, his lips on hers, their tongues
intertwining, probing each other, as his free hand caressed her breasts,
belly, thighs and pubic mound; finally, his hand went down between her
legs and covered the whole of her genitals, massaging in a general way
the whole oval of her pubic triangle. Her pelvis moved in tiny, churning
circles under his hand, and he knew that she was fully aroused ... would
remain so until she exploded in orgasm. Christ! He was so hot, himself!
He wasn't sure that he could hold off much longer. He had to get his
cock in her little cunt and fuck her! His balls ached from his great
need, and his prick throbbed, painfully.

Shifting his position, he moved to kneel between her legs, levering them
apart as he crawled part way into the open vee they made, then lifting
by the knees, he flexed them and splayed her thighs wide apart to expose
her young virginal cunt completely to him. His eyes gazed hungrily down
at her nakedness, the coralline flesh of her vaginal split glistening
moistly in the dim light of the room, and peeping out between the fleshy
lips of her vulva he could see the deeper coral of the inner petals
clasped tightly between the fleshy folds of her virginal pussy.

It happened then.

She felt his finger tracing the thin furrow of her exposed female slit,
and she squirmed, involuntarily, beneath the tantalizingly salacious
probing. Moaning aloud in an emotional agony of sensual desire, as the
electric shock of his teasing finger rippled along the flesh of her
legs, she squirmed her buttocks down into the mattress, her moan
changing to a helpless mewl under the impact of his taunting finger. The
sensitive flesh of her vagina seemed to cringe as he gently parted the
fleshy, hair-lined folds of her vulva to expose the moist, pink and
tender tissues of her virginal cuntal opening. She sensed the wetness
present in her vagina and knew that it was the result of her high state
of sexual arousal, a condition she had not wanted; however she was so
entangled, now, that she knew there was no retreat. Again, an
uncontrolled moan of sheer pleasure emitted from her lips.

Then, oh, then ... Oh, God! ... she felt it so plainly! Don, slowly,
inserted a finger, probing it deeply into the depths of her cuntal
passage, then moved it in and out for several slow teasing strokes
before he began to move it churningly around and around just inside the
tiny, pulsating mouth.

"Don't worry, Char ... I'll stretch it good before I put my cock in it!"

Again, a twinge of pain caused her to jerk her hips down and away,
squirming them down into the softness of the mattress.

"I've got two fingers in you, now!" he reported excitedly.

The slight pain was rapidly replaced by intense sensations of pleasure
as he finger-fucked his sister in and out, around and around for a few
moments; then, a more severe pain seared through her. She moaned, "Oh,
God ... that hurts!"

Flashingly, the scene passed before her eyes, again. She saw the strange
man on her mother's bed using her mouth for a lewd, cunt-like
receptacle, his short, thick penis sawing in and out ... but, below, as
her mother had reached her climax, she had reached down to shove three
of her fingers into the depths of her own vagina, stabbing them in and
out with reckless abandon to achieve her orgasm. And, her brother had
just told her that he, at this very moment, had entered three of his
fingers into her own seething cunt.

Oh, God! Three fingers ...! He's got three of his fingers in me! It's
not possible! ... but, that's just the same as mom was doing!

Now, there was another, sharper twinge of pain, but somehow, it didn't
bother her as much as had the others. Was it possible, she wondered, for
a person to get used to having pain, even to learn to enjoy the
sensations of pain? She remembered, dimly, that there were people like
that. Dear God! Could she become one of those people? The thought fled
from her, but the idea had been planted. Could it ever germinate and
grow in the fertile soil of her sexual inexperience?

"How's that, Char?" her brother breathed heavily above her. "I've got
four fingers in now! That ought to stretch you, enough! Christ! I've
never seen a tighter or a cuter little cunt than yours!"

Then, she found that she was reacting with vigor to counter the manual
manipulation of her now widestretched vagina, her hips moving,
uncontrollably, in wild gyrations under her, moving, it seemed, of their
own volition in an instinctive dance of sex around the probing fingers.
Then, she knew: This was but a preview of what was to come when her
brother would finally put his huge penis in her ... and ... and actually
fuck her.

She was appalled. She had actually thought it! Oh, God! I said it to
myself ... but I don't believe it! How could I do it? I've never even
considered using a word like that! ... But, Oh, God ... it feels so
good! I've got to have it! I've got to have .... his c-cock in m-me ...
Fucking me!

A wave of disappointment washed through her, when a moment or two later,
she felt him remove his hand from her hungrily squirming pussy, and she
had the feeling that she was empty, unfulfilled. She raised her head to
look down between her mounding breasts to see her loving brother leaning
forward, his face coming down between her open thighs, and she
understood, instantly, his intentions. He was going to suck and lick her
cunt some more! God! she was becoming depraved. Three times now she had
thought those words: Fuck! Cock! Cunt! Oh, God! What's happening to me?
I'm ... I'm being coarse ... and immoral ... thinking thoughts I've
never thought before!

Between his sister's legs, Don placed his hands, strategically, against
the soft, warmly smooth flesh of her inner thighs and gazed down,
hungrily, at the narrow, pink oval, fringed so delicately with the soft,
auburn hair, where droplets of dew shown, glisteningly moistening the
gently pulsating petals of the inner lips. He was pleased to see that he
had stretched her without drawing blood. Using his thumbs, then, he
slowly parted the outer, fleshy lips to reveal the coralline vestibule
of her cuntal passage, and he saw that the soft pink flanges of her
hymen were cleared from the opening. There seemed to be only a mild
irritation from which she would recover, almost immediately. He was
secretly pleased with himself and his thoughtful technique. Idly, he
wondered whether or not he would have been so considerate of another
girl, not his sister. Hell! I'd have just shoved it in .... I think ...
but Char? Christ! I had to do it right for her!

Charity gazed back at him through passion-glazed eyes. She supposed that
he expected her to say something in return to what he meant as a
compliment, but she couldn't think of a single thing. Words failed her;
instead, a deepthroated moan came from her, "OOOOOoooooh! Don! Don!
Donnie ...!" At the same time, she felt herself lift her pelvis up to
him, offering her cunt to him ... to do with as he would, and it was
involuntary ... uncontrolled ... instinctive. She was a woman on the
brink of orgasm, a woman who needed to be filled and fulfilled ... to be
frictioned and stroked by a cock until she exploded into climax.

She felt the hot wisps of his breath graze her secret and sensitive
flesh. She moaned aloud, still looking down the valley between her
breasts and across the flat plain of her belly to the softly curling
mound of her sparse young pubic hair where she saw her brother drop his
head, his face almost disappearing into the split of her legs, nuzzling
in against the sensate flesh, and she felt the full length of his long,
agile tongue slide wetly up into her quivering, more-than-ready vagina.
He grunted, the sound animalistic as it emitted from his throat. Her
body responded, automatically, convulsively, at the wet, electric
sensation, her body lurching up to him, then grinding back and down into
the softness of the mattress to escape the intense, galvanic thrill that
seemed, momentarily more than her overloaded nerves could bear; however,
in the next instant, her hips flexed to raise her voraciously moist cunt
to him, once again. Unbidden, her throat gave voice to her utter
commitment, her complete and total physical and mental surrender to the
lewd rapture that encompassed her and held her captive. There was no
reprieve, no pardon ... no solution except delicious delivery through
orgasm. Her stomach churned with her agitation, and she wailed, now, in
her entrapment, as her brother's tongue slithered in and out of her
defenseless, naked pussy with wild, animal-like fury. She was deep in
the throes of sex, her sensations heightened, intensified and amplified
by the narcotic affecting her brain. The pot she had smoked had released
all of her inhibitions. All the barriers were down. She was nothing but
a feeling animal, an animal in rut that had to be fucked ... and fucked
good!

Blindly, her hands groped to find her brother's head. Finding it, she
entangled her fingers in his long hair and pulled his face gently, yet
firmly, in close, closer, to her wildly undulating vagina.

Groaning helplessly, her head began to flail from side to side. Oh, God!
It was happening! All of it was happening to her. She knew it was true;
she could feel everything down there, in her cunt, so clearly, as his
tongue continued to race in and out with maddeningly sensual and
rhythmic regularity. In ecstatic rapture, she moaned, "OOOOOoooooh ...
My God! My Godddddd! OOOOOOOooooooh, Don! Donnnnnnniiieee!"

Chapter 6

Dottie Scott was in a blue funk! After the stranger had left the house,
and she had found her connecting bathroom door slightly ajar, the fear
overcoming her that her own young daughter had possibly seen and heard
what had happened on the bed, she came apart at the seams, emotionally.

She still had her husband's German made pistol in her hand. Looking at
it, dumbly, she wondered whether or not she would have had the courage
to pull the trigger and shoot the stocky salesman who had imposed
himself so lewdly upon her ... perpetrating that obscene act, using her
mouth as he did. Ugh! She was revulsed, again, by the mere thought of
how basely she had been used. True. She had sucked a man's penis before
... but this?! It was too much even for her own worldly attitude.
Christ! There are limits!

Placing the gun on the dresser, perhaps thinking that she would need it,
if that character showed up, again, she stumbled to her bed, threw
herself face-down upon it and let her pent-up emotions go. She needed to
have a good cry ... after all she had been through, and woman-like, her
scalding tears helped to cleanse the psychic wounds. Physically, she had
not been hurt, in any way, except that her jaw seemed to be a little
tired and sore.

For several minutes, her shame and humiliation was allowed to run its
gamut in her. Afterward, she began to feel better and decided to take a
bath. She needed to feel clean, all over.

After her long, soaking bath, she stood before the mirror toweling
herself off. Catching her reflection, there, she experienced a nauseous
feeling of revulsion for her own beautiful body. God! It was that very
beauty that had been her downfall, her burden ... almost, it seemed, her
own destruction, but she could not crawl out of this skin, of course; it
was the body she had to live in ... and with, until the day she died.

She reflected on her past life. Her real problems had begun the year her
folks had moved from Michigan to California, settling in Redfern. It had
been her Senior year of high school, and she had become, almost
immediately, the most popular girl in her class. She had dated several
boys, but she fell in love, hopelessly, with a handsome young man who
was a sophomore at Redfern College.

It had been her beautiful face and figure that had attracted him. She
was flattered by the attentions of an older man, a college man. Sex had
followed, naturally, it seemed ... and also, quite naturally, pregnancy.

But, when she knew for sure, nature having taken its inexorable course,
a period missed, she received the news that he had been killed by
Chinese Communist troops in the bitter fighting around Chosin Reservoir
in North Korea. He had enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps, but before he
was airlifted off to the war he had left her a living memory.

Gabriel Scott, one of the boys in her Senior Class, she had dated,
agreed to marry her ... after she had seduced him, and then told him the
child she was carrying was his.

If Scotty had ever suspected that Charity was not his own daughter, she
did not know of it. He had said nothing, and she was sure that he
accepted her explanation of premature birth when her beautiful
auburn-haired daughter was born only seven and a half months after their
hasty marriage. The secret of Charity's paternity was locked in her
heart. She had vowed never to reveal to any one the name of the man who
had fathered her love-child. She had kept that vow, made to herself,
more than eighteen years ago.

She had to smile, ruefully, to herself, as she realized that her Life's
Review sounded like an unlikely plot from a confession type magazine.
But ... damn it ... that's the way it is! That's why I'm so concerned
about Charity ... she's a real young woman now .... cursed with beauty,
too ... and she could go off the deep end over some boy ... and repeat
the same story! I shouldn't worry, I guess ... or suspect her of doing
something she shouldn't! If there was only some way ... I-I could help
her ... tell her of the pitfalls without letting her know that I've
already been down the road and got my lumps ... fallen into all the
traps! Oh, God! I want her to have a good life!

Donnie, her second child, had, of course, been fathered by Gabe, and she
remembered how proud he was when their second born had been a boy. Just
like most men!

She had never fully understood, though, how it was that her husband had
lost their citrus acreage and the house. Certain aspects of business
escaped her.

The one thing that had been very clear to her was that after they had
moved into town, into the present ramshackle rented house, Scotty had
not been able to keep a job for more than a few months. His drinking
became chronic, and with his seeming deterioration, his inability to
support them, she saw that it was up to her to be the provider.

Work in cocktail lounges had led her to part-time prostitution.
Remembering, now, she would have gladly applied to the Welfare
Department for assistance ... rather than follow the course she had
followed, but a false sense of pride kept her from asking for help;
instead, she had fallen for the story of easy money that had been told
her by another waitress with whom she worked. Yes ... it was true. She
did pick up some extra money that way ... money that provided a few of
the things the family really needed plus some extras.

... But I was able to keep the family going ... and still, somehow,
raise two fine children. Gabe and I don't have much left of our love ...
and our marriage ... and now that he's probably found out what I've been
doing, he'll probably leave me ... want a divorce ... maybe even want to
take the children away from me! Dear God! I'd die if they found out ...
and I lost them, too!

Her morbid thoughts grew and multiplied. They seemed to be suffocating
her, making it impossible for her to think clearly, and she could see no
solutions, no compromises to work out. Damn! Everything's in such a
mess! There's just no way out! I don't know what I can say to Gabe in
the morning ... when I bail him out of jail ... and Charity? God ... how
I wish I knew ... whether she heard or saw what that vile man did ...
what I allowed him to do to me! ... But, oh God! There is some truth to
what he said ... a-a wh-whore's paid to do those things ... however lewd
or obscene they are! But, it's still hard for me to think of myself that
way!

The thought about Charity prompted her to open the connecting door from
the bathroom to her daughter's bedroom to take a quick peek at her
loveliness as she slept. Pushing the door open a crack, she peered
through. Charity was not in her bed!

Oh, God! She's not there! Where could she be? Where would she go? Could
she have slipped out ... t-to ... to meet a boy ... and.

A vision ... a memory of what she, herself, had done, so many years
before, flashed across her mind. She was stunned. Was it possible?
Charity ... her own lovely daughter ... lying with a boy, somewhere ...
making love ... copulating, a male cock in her virginal young cunt,
because she believed in the same romantic notions of undying love ...
and all the other crap that went along with it? Dear God! Don't! Oh,
don't let it be that way for her!

Quickly, she wrapped her towel about her naked body and padded into her
daughter's room. The other door, leading into the dining room was open,
slightly, and she went through it into the dining room. Then, on
impulse, she glided on through the darkened kitchen to the back door
that gave on to the back porch and Donnie's bedroom. She had heard him
arrive on his motorcycle, but something in her made her want to check on
him, make certain that he was safely in his bed.

A dim crack of light shone through, at the bottom of his door making a
small beacon to guide her footsteps. She stopped, ready to turn back,
convinced that he was, indeed in his room, but a sound behind the closed
door arrested her attention. It was the voice of a girl ... a girl
experiencing the passion of sex. It was Charity's voice. Oh, no ... God!
No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOO! She screamed in silence to herself at the
possibility of the monstrous thing that could be happening in her own
son's bedroom. Donnie ... and Ch-Charity ... Together? In bed? Oh, God,
no!

Dottie was stricken, rooted to the spot, and almost as if to prove her
wrong, she heard her daughter's voice, clearly, "DON ... OH, DON ...
IT'S STARTING TO FEEL ... SO G-GOOD! I-I DON'T WANT YOU TO STOP!"

A flashing mind-picture of the forbidden sex act taking place in
Donnie's room further stunned her. All she could think of, at that
moment, was that they had to be stopped ... if it were not too late!

She raised both fists to knock on the door, her mouth opening to shout
out her objections, but she stopped short. Her impetuous action, her
searing words were halted, as yet another lightning thought came to her,
the memory of her own depraved actions of but a little while before, an
act that could have been heard and seen by her daughter, burned into
her, reminding her that she, of all people, had no earthly right to
condemn ... to sit in judgment or hang a label. Slowly, her arms dropped
down to her sides and she stood there in abject shame, while inside, she
heard the rustle of the bed as her son and daughter writhed upon it in
uncontrollable sexual ecstasy.

Tears formed in her eyes and ran in unnoticed rivulets down her cheeks.
Donnie's voice, now:

Dear God! This isn't the first time for Donnie! He's so young! It
doesn't seem possible that he could have had sex relations already!

"OOOOOH! DON! DON! DONNIE!"

Charity's voice was so full of rapturous passion, a passion that Dottie,
herself, knew well ... and she couldn't bear to hear any more. She fled.
Blinded by her tears and hampered by the darkness, she made her
stumbling way back to her own bedroom and sat down, heavily, on the edge
of her bed.

Suddenly, she felt old ... drained. All of the cares of the world, of
mankind, it seemed, rested square on her shoulders. She didn't know how
she could bear that heavy burden. The one overriding thought in her mind
was that she had failed ... failed as a wife, a mother ... perhaps even,
as a human being. It was too complicated to sort out aH of the reasons
why she felt that way. Life itself was too much. She couldn't cope with
it. Life had defeated her!

Disconsolately, she looked around the shabby room with its faded,
peeling wallpaper and flaking paint, contrasting it, in her mind, with
the home she and Gabe had lived in, when they were first married and, by
extension, comparing it, again, to her parents' home. There was, of
course, no comparison, and she hated what she saw; hated it with a
passion, for the tumble-down old house only served to re-enforce her own
feelings of spiritual and moral decay, not to mention those of her
husband ... and now ... of her children.

Her eyes came to rest on Gabe's pistol that she had placed on the
dresser, for protection, in the event the salesman came back, again.
Suddenly, she saw the gun in a different light. She saw it as a
solution! That was it! Of course, it would be so easy!

Falteringly, she reached out and picked up the weapon. She ran her hand
over its cold, blue length. Strange! she thought, It's like a cock ... a
man's hard cock ... loaded with death ... instead of life! All these
years ... it's been my death, anyway .... a slow death, impaled on a
man's cock ... taking its way with me ... and leaving me with shame ...
humiliation and degradation .... a-and a b-bastard child ... a psychic
cripple for a husband!... And, now my own two children engaging in
incest ... while I-I'm nothing but a wh-whore! Christ! What a mess! It
would be so easy! All I have to do is pull the trigger ... and all my
troubles will be over!

She lifted the gun in her hand. Dear God ... forgive me! It's too hard
... to keep on living!

* * *

Suddenly, Donnie's hands slipped up over his sister's belly to find the
full, firm flesh of her hard-nippled breasts, cupping, squeezing and
massaging them with strong-fingered, almost brutal caresses, while
below, his mouth and tongue continued their labors in the widespread
slit down between her legs, his wet obscene sucking sounds filling the
room; meanwhile, she was aware that his eyes were looking at her face up
over her pubic mound, through the soft, sparse hairs curling softly
there, and they were smiling eyes that watched her ... eyes that waited
for her to cum. Somehow, she knew. He was going to lick her into
complete submission, perhaps even to orgasm before she would have his
lust-hardened young cock fucking into her hungry cunt.

Watching, he knew that it would not be long before she climaxed. He only
hoped that he, himself, could wait ... wait for just a little while
longer. Christ! My balls ache! But, I want this to be good for her! I'm
going to lick and suck her cunt until she cums ... then, I'll fuck her
... fuck her with everything I've got! Just a little while more and I'll
get to my part of the real fun!

His eyes remained fixed on Charity's lovely, contorting face as he
unceasingly continued his frenzied tongue-mouth tantalizing thrusts into
her moist cuntal depths.

Changing pace, now, he suddenly shifted his mouth upward, his lips
probing and exploring, until he found the erect, pulsing bud of her
clitoris. He heard her sharp whine of agonized pleasure as he took the
tiny, throbbing erectile shaft between his teeth, and holding it tightly
but gently, ran his tongue around and around it in ever decreasing
circles, until, finally, he opened his hungry lips wide and slid his
tongue downward, back down the smooth, moist furrow to the throbbing
heat of her tiny, bearded little cuntal mouth. Her head flailed from
side to side, uncontrollably, as he relentlessly fucked into her orally,
sliding his long, agile tongue in and out of her now dilated and
clasping pussy without mercy, in an effort to bring her to an exploding
climax. Christ! Why doesn't she cum? She's hanging right there on the
brink!

Charity was trying to speak. She fought to gain control of her throat
muscles. Swallowing several times and wetting her lips, she was finally
able to say, "D-Don ... Oh, Don ... Please ...? Why don't y-you put your
th-thing in m-me and d-do it?"

He returned, quickly, to her steaming loins to listen to the whimpering,
mewling sounds that she was emitting, constantly, while he swirled and
flicked his tongue around and around, churn-like, in the velvety smooth
insides of the soft, hair-lined lips that pulsed and throbbed there
before his eyes. Then, he pulled her legs up, sliding his arms under
them so that his shoulders and arms were wedged tight up beneath her
thighs, pushing them up even farther until they draped over his
shoulders. Now, his hands went beneath her smooth, white, quivering
buttocks and pulled them up harder toward his face with brutal force.

His sister's cries of involuntary rapture filled the small bedroom, and
her buttocks in his grasping hands jerked and convulsed beneath the
plunging tongue, sending erotic high-voltage jolts of sexual sensation
surging through her young, untried body.

Then, suddenly, she felt him flick his tongue away from and out of her
vagina, downward toward the tiny, puckered secret orifice of her anus.
She gasped aloud. "Oooooh God!" She could have screamed, but the
ecstatic, supremely erotic and salacious sensation only caused her to
continue moaning, incoherently, as the surprising and searing contact of
his wet tongue with the forbidden, sensitive opening was made.

And, even as she spoke, she rolled her hips against his hands and tried
to screw her sensate rectum back onto his stiff, probing tongue.

Don grinned up at her, then and laughed, croakingly, "Did you flip for
that, Char ...?"

Dropping his head, again, he thrust against the snugly tight little
hole, gooseflesh raising on her thighs, quaking belly and heaving
breasts.

In her deep Passion, she could only moan, "Oh, God ... Oh, God .... Oh,
God ..." As she groaned, her loins continued to jerk and writhe up to
his questing tongue in uncontrollable undulations at the delicious,
unwanted yet wanted=93=93even needed=93=93sensations slashing through
her.

"Oh, God ... Oh, God ... Don ... Don ..." she whimpered, raising her
head to gape down at his impish eyes that peeped up over the auburn
haired mound at the Vee of her loins. "P-Please .... Oh, please ...
do-do it ... to me ..." She was begging, now, the realization of it
seeming strange to her, aware that she had no control over her body,
overwhelming her with its impact. She had the feeling that there was
nothing in the world but the sensual needs of her cunt; indeed it was
only her vagina that mattered. He had licked and sucked at her, her body
quivering, uncontrollably, beneath the overpowering assault on the raw
nerve ends of her throbbing pussy, bringing her to the penultimate
pinnacle of her climax, where she hung in agonized, aching need to go on
to the final stage. She clenched her teeth and fists in determination as
the waves of wanton pleasure passed through her in furious spasms of
sensuality. Suddenly, however, it came to her that she was too anxious,
trying too hard. Perhaps she should relax and let it come to her. That
was it!

She made the decision spontaneously. She relaxed her tense, quivering
muscles, unclenched her fists, surrendering unconditionally to the
intense, internal ecstasy that she had never known before, deciding to
let her brother alone transport her to that final, dizzying height she
sought. Her soft, voluptuous body had cried out too long for
fulfillment; she had to end the agony by relaxing and just letting it
come. Oh, God! She had to cum ... quick!

Still in a narcotic fog, she cried, "OOOOOooo ... Goddddd! Darling ...
Don ...! Love me! Oh, God! Love meeeee!" She pleaded with him,
shamelessly, her aroused body quivering and undulating beneath his long
hot tongue, as now, he shifted to tantalize her clitoris, again,
slipping his wet lingual member up and down the pulsating shaft of it
several times, before finally plunging it into the hot, liquid depths of
her voracious cunt. Her hands found his hair again, and with force she
pressed his face into her seething crotch, raising her hips to him,
rhythmically. She began to pant desperately, her breath coming in short
gasps, her whole body spasming, as she sunk crazily into the final
throes of orgasm!

She recognized it when it came to her. Wave after wave of ecstatic
rapture surged through her convulsing body, and she was there. She was
cumming!

Unreal, in the confines of the small bedroom, her voice came in a wail
of sensuous, carnal, almost feral sound, the noise of carnal desire of
pure, animal sex. "OOOOoooooooh! IIIII'mmm Cuuuuuuummmmmiiiinnnnggg!
AAAAAAaaaaauuuuggghhhhhhhhhhh!"

Don could barely contain his broad smile of elation, as he continued to
work his long, curling tongue deep into the seething, clasping passage
of her vagina while she made one, final violent thrust of her hips,
pushing her swirling young pussy up tight to his mouth, as the height of
her climax struck her, the soft, silken curls of her pulsing cunt lips
closing in on him, titillating his cheeks and teasing at the tip of his
nose.

Then, as her subsequent and subsiding waves of passion swept over her,
she slumped back onto the mattress, her body relaxing, going all limp,
the euphoric aftermath of her climax claiming her. Her eyes were closed.
She was in a near faint.

Now! Don was gloating. Now ... it's my turn! Damn, she's really turned
on ... maybe she'll be able to cum, again while I'm fucking her!

Her body relaxed by gentle stages, until she reached a plateau of
partial fulfillment where she was still aroused. She didn't know that
from this state, she could be brought, again to the pinnacle of orgasm
... and again, and again, if her body wanted it. For now, she thought
that she had experienced the ultimate. Little did she know that soon
again she would soar to unbelievable heights of another orgiastic
climax.

She felt her brother move away from her still throbbing loins, and she
opened her eyes to look up into his face. He had shifted his position to
kneel between her limply spread legs. His pulsating cock speared out
from his loins, massively, its throbbing length almost touching her
sensitive love-flesh.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you, Char! Fuck you silly with this!" he grinned
lewdly, reaching down to grasp the hardened rod of his prick and
skinning back the foreskin to reveal the fiery bulbous head of it to her
gaze.

Charity couldn't move. It was almost as though she were petrified, her
thighs raised and spread wide open to him, her passion-swollen breasts
heaving, her breath still coming in short panting gasps and her belly
quivered, cringingly, as her eyes locked upon her brother's long, hard
cock that lanced out from his crotch like some dangerous medieval
weapon.

"Christ, Sis!" he exploded. "I stretched you out ... don't you remember?
It'll fit ... don't worry ... And, damn it ... you've got to start using
the right words! This is a cock!"

He crawled up over her, holding himself aloft on strong arms and
pinioning her shoulders to the mattress. "So start saying it! Tell me
you want me to fuck you ... with my cock!" he grunted, lowering his head
to suck a distended nipple, taking it into his mouth and sinking his
teeth into it, causing her to writhe in pain, her hips beneath him
rising to meet the hardness of him. Simultaneously, there was a definite
erotic twinge in the fluttering agony of his biting teeth and a spasm of
sensuous delight in their grinding loins, below.

"Say it, damn it!" he breathed heavily down at her writhing nakedness.

"P-Please ... Don ... do I-I have to ...?"

"Yes ... God damn it ... I want to hear you say it!" he ground out at
her. "It turns me on ... and gives me an extra charge! Oh, God ... am I
going to give it to you! When you get my cock in that cute little cunt
of yours ... you're going to be begging me to fuck you ... fuck you
until you can't walk! So start saying it ... now!"

Charity lay beneath him as if she were paralyzed, her eyes staring in
disbelief at her brother's oddly twisted mouth as it spewed out the
obscene words. She couldn't understand the change that had come over him
... couldn't understand why he was now insisting that she use the same
vile words.

"I-I c-can't bring myself t-to say them ... Don ..."

"Christ! You've heard them ... and I'll bet you've thought them ... so
get on with it!"

Dear God! He's right! I have thought those words ... and maybe there
isn't much difference! ... And, I suppose since they do something ...
something erotic for him ... I-I shouldn't deny him ... after all he's
done for me! So, whatever's fair ... I guess! After all, they're only
words!

Licking her lips, she tried hesitantly, "Don ... I-I want you .... I
w-want you t-to f-fuck m-me ... with your c-cock! Put it in m-my cunt
... and fuck me ... s-silly with it ...!"

He grinned lopsidedly down at her, lewd delight registering in his eyes,
"You're doing great!" he grunted. "Now ... reach down and take my prick
in your hand and put it in that tight, little cunt of yours!"

"Oh, God ... Don ... I-I can't d-do that too ...!" she moaned.

"You damned well better ... or you won't get it!" he taunted. "You want
it ... don't you ...? And, if you do, you'll have to put it in! Anyway
... you've already handled another guy's cock ... so that'll be no
problem ..."

Even as he spoke, her hand had moved down, tremblingly, toward his
hardened rod and poised only an inch from it, unable to force herself to
that final movement. Her head began to shake back and forth, negatively,
and tears started into her eyes. Oh, God! Why was her darling brother
forcing her to this?

"Oh, my God ..." she groaned, once more, as she hastened to obey him,
her small hand encircling his thick, throbbing rod of male-flesh.
Somehow, she was ready, now. She had leaped up from the quiescent
plateau of her arousal to full-blown sensuous sexuality in the space of
but a few moments, and the sex words, cock, cunt, fuck, dinning in her
ears, her forced use of them, added to the eroticism, building the
searing flame of her passion even higher.

Then, as she held her brother's rock-hard, more-than-ready penis in her
tiny hand, she truly perceived, for the first time, the enormity of it.
A sudden expression of fear flashed across her face. Oh, God, No! It's
t-too big? I-It'll tear me in two ... rip me! It's a monster!

"Hurry up ... damn it! Put it in! I'm just about ready to cream all over
your cunt, now!" It was an order. His voice was steel-hard.

He lowered his hips, while Charity spread her smooth, white young thighs
even wider and guided his thick, heavy prick down toward the tiny, moist
opening of her vagina, using its bulbous head to part the cringing
fleshy lips of her cunt, her mind reeling with both fear and
anticipation. It would be the first time in her life that a boy's penis
had touched her there. Momentarily, she remembered that the particular
boy whose cock would make its first stiffened entry into her virginal
cunt was that of her own brother. Oh, God! Dear God! It was really
incest!

But, her hesitant thoughts came a moment too late!

She gasped aloud and flailed her head, a shudder passing through her
body, deliciously, at the first, hot, electrifying contact with the
soft, rubbery head, moistened by its own lubricants, against the dewy,
sensitive flesh of her cunt mouth, and she dared not breathe, even, as
she lay frozen, immobile beneath him, a mixture of fear and anticipation
flowing chillingly in her veins. Then, he flicked his hips forward,
slightly, eliciting a sharp, little pain from the stretching pressure of
his hardened lance of flesh at the snugly tight entrance to her cuntal
passage. Oh, God ... please don't let it hurt me anymore!

"OOOOooooOOOh!" she cried. He had pushed into her a fraction of an inch
more, forcing it with inexorable pressure ever deeper.

"AAAAaaauuughhh!" she choked as the ponderous crest pushed into her a
little stretch more, wedging itself into the tight, elastic opening,
brutally stretching the as yet untried flesh of her pussy until Charity
was sure that she must be tearing from the almost unbearable, outward
pressing strain of his slow entrance into her.

"Stop ... Don! Oh, God ... you're splitting me! It hurts too much!
P-Please ... stop?!" she wailed. Then, as she looked up pleadingly into
her brother's face, she knew that he would not, indeed, could not stop.
His face was contorted with lust, a driving need in him, lashing him to
sexual fury. The thought crossed her mind that his face looked almost
savage ... sadistic.

"Crap!" he spat. "It'll be all right! A cunt'll stretch as much as it
needs to ... take any size cock!"

She gaped up at him, her tormented eyes begging him for relief, but
there was now no mercy in him. He shoved, again, harder, and it popped
just inside the warm elastic mouth of her cunt, the smooth, rubbery
head, buried throbbingly now in her forever-stretched cunt. She was
sure, now, as she pleaded with him, that he was thoroughly enjoying her
suffering, while he cruelly continued his agonizing impalement of her
virginal vagina.

"OOhhhh! Dear God ... My God!" she groaned, as he pressed his hard tube
of hardened maleness into her inch by inch, torturing her with the
inexorable slowness of his entry, until suddenly, she was aware that his
facial expression had changed. It was a grotesque mask of pure animal
lust. It was almost as though he had reached the limits of his waiting
game, his body demanding its due, needing fulfillment and release of the
terrible built-up pressure in his balls. With a glance down at her
widespread and roundly stretched pussy lips where his thick hard cock
strained into the tight mouth of her cuntal passage, he thrust, hard and
cruel, sending his long, iron shod cock racing up into her cringing
vaginal vault with the energy of a rutting elephant. A heavy, guttural
grunt of feral, animal-like satisfaction issued from his throat,
"AAuugh!"

"OOOOOhhhHHH!" she screamed as her brother's massive, lust- inflated
cock-head pressed the tight, momentarily resisting walls of her moist
vagina in wavelets of warm virginal flesh before it, the full length and
breadth of his rod racing up into her belly, the rubbery head flicking
the neck of her cervix in its headlong course, until finally, it stopped
as it nudged hard against the back wall of her defensively clenching
passage. She felt his heavy, sperm-laden balls smack up hard against the
upturned cheeks of her smoothly sculpted buttocks. His great cock was
buried to the hilt in her cringing cunt ... and suddenly Charity Scott
was no longer a virgin. She would never be the same, again!

"God! My Goddddd!" she moaned piteously.

"It's like a log ... up inside me!" She lay unmoving beneath him, not
daring to move, lest she would fall apart ... split asunder ... right
down the middle of her body!

His huge cock had stuffed her belly full, and her vagina felt raw and
irritated from his brutally cruel entry into her, his virile young rod's
every wrinkle and corrugation plainly felt as it lay snug and tight in
her passage, sunk deep up into her forever stretched cunt.

For a long moment, Don lay unmoving and heavy upon her his breath raspy
in his throat, then he flexed his cock deep inside the tight, soft
confines of her moist, coral-lined sheath, expanding it and forcing
another fraction of an inch of it deeper up into her.

Groaning in helpless subjugation, now, she felt each stretching,
lurching motion as he repeated it again and again, each time raising
tearful grunts of agony from deep in her throat; however, after only a
few moments, she began to feel the erotic arousal of it in her nerve
endings, as her tortured passage became accustomed to the truncheon he
had thrust into her; her whimpers of pain and discomfort lessened, and
her brother began to grind his cock tightly into her naked crotch,
revolving his pelvis around and around, churning it, expanding the still
clinging, cringing walls of her vagina, until finally, her whimpers
became whining, little mewls of pleasure-pain she could not contain.
They escaped her, involuntarily. She knew, then, that her body had
responded for the second time, and that she was on the shoulder of
another figurative orgasmic mountain, scaling its heights to yet another
pinnacle of wild delight. Oh, God! She hadn't known it was possible!

Slowly, her brother levered himself, raising up to support his weight on
his arms, again, as his sister purled helplessly beneath him, and he
said, "Now Char, we come to the begging part! Ask me for it! Beg me to
fuck you!"

Charity stared up at him, unbelievingly, her hips already undulant
beneath him, a motion she couldn't control, her drug glazed eyes
mirroring her passion mixed with a plea for gentleness and mercy. She
couldn't understand why he was putting her through the paces, again.

"OOOOoooh ... Please ... Don ...?"

"Beg me, Char!" he grunted. Say it ... damn it!"

"Why ... Don? Haven't I already done ... everything you wanted ...?"

"Beg!" He commanded. "I like it that way!"

She obeyed, There was nothing else to do. "OOOOOooh, yes ... Don ...
d-darling ... I want it ...! I w-want you t-to fuck me! Fuck me with
that big c-cock of yours. Fuck me half to d-death with it!" she
breathed, the obscene words rolling from her mouth easier, now. She
found it a small price to pay, for there was nothing in the world she
really wanted more than his thick, pulsating cock racing in and out of
her needful cuntal passage. Oh, God! She felt as though she were all
cunt. All of her drugged senses were concentrated there in her keening
vagina.

As he began to rock above her, now, using short, smooth strokes, her
body reacted of its own volition, instinctively; she had surrendered
completely to the rippling passion in her, and the mere thought of her
unconditional commitment caused further chills of excitement to race the
length of her spine as she felt the easy tempo of her brother's turgid
length begin to thrust ever long and harder up into her cavern of her
moist, throbbing pussy.

As he slowly increased his pace and the length of his stroke, Charity
felt her whole body, indeed, her whole being responding to her brother,
and she writhed, squirmingly, beneath him. His mouth dropped down to
hers, and she thrust her tongue upward between his lips to be sucked, as
she moaned, unceasingly, in ecstasy, ready to accept anything, now, that
he wanted to do with her. She began to raise her loins up to him in
rhythm, countering his driving plunges into her moist depths, and her
lovely face contorted in wanton desire, her mouth opening and closing
against his lips, her nostrils flaring, her breath beginning to come in
short, gasping pants as she became one with him in their illicit,
incestuous copulation. It was an abject surrender to the lewd desires of
the flesh, even in the face of all ancient taboos.

He could see the perspiration forming on her forehead and between her
lusciously firm melon-breasts. Her lovely auburn hair was now in
hopeless disarray, and he could see the straining neck muscles, as the
mewling sounds of her throat emitted in a constant hum of sound. Christ!
She was hot as a three dollar pistol!

At that moment, he too gave no heed to right or wrong. He could care
less! Charity was his sister, but she was, also, a female whose full,
round ass was churning, writhing and bucking, forcing her seething,
voracious cunt up against his pillaging cock .... a woman, in every
sense of the word, who needed to be fucked. Grunting with the effort, he
tried to shove even more of his throbbing cock into her.

Damn, what a tight, cute little cunt it was ... and what a gorgeous
woman his sister was! Christ! The way she was fucking back was driving
him right out of his skull!

He slipped his hands down on either side of her and slid them in under
the soft, smooth orbs of her slaving ass-cheeks, grasping them hard and
brutal in his strong hands, feeling them as they worked, the pliantly
smooth muscles of them clenching and unclenching as the white flesh
ridged between his clutching fingers.

Charity groaned beneath her brother's grinding cock, and her breath
caught in her throat as he hauled her up tight against his pounding
loins, and he felt her draw her thighs even further apart, flexing them
back to either flank of his sweating body which caused the moist,
clasping opening of her cunt to flower open, receiving his great knobbed
cudgel to even greater depths, the blood-engorged head of it flicking
past her womb-neck with every plunging stroke.

Now, her head rolled and swiveled on her neck in delighted, highly
distilled ecstasy, the last twinges of pain in her vagina gone from her,
as her legs, on either side of his thick, impaling cock quivering and
jerking, spasmodically, lewdly, splayed open to him, and her tongue, on
slippery hinges of its own slithered in and out of his mouth, in
duplicate of the pistoning action below, while satiny sounds of
love-rapture gurgled in her throat. For the first time in her young
life, she experienced ... she lived ... she loved .... she fucked back
at him with everything in her, her whole being vibrant and attuned to
every nuance ... every sensation that was in her. In retrospect, had she
been able to think clearly, at that moment, everything, from the licking
and sucking of her genitals, the stretching and the entry of his huge
penis had prepared her for this total commitment to the joys of
copulation. Her brother had done well by her, he had succeeded in
arousing the sleeping beauty of sex for her.

Truly, she thought that the warm, hard, live thing inside her, filling
her belly, was a key, a key that was opening the lock of her sexuality
... opening it forever, as her cunt had been opened by him.

And, as she lay under him, taking his long, hardened member deep up into
her, she found that when she tensed her thighs, straining the cords of
her neck and back, writhing her genitals up tight to him, relaxing and
tensing the muscles of her vaginal vault, there was an intensity, a
delicious blissful sensation, she never in her wildest dreams would have
believed possible. Suddenly, she wanted to give back as much as she was
getting ... and, Dear God ... she wanted it never to end ... never!

Don began to pound into her with sledgehammer force, taking longer, as
well as faster strokes, drawing his rock-hard cock nearly out of the
snug, moist sheath that clasped at it, hungrily, then slammed back into
her upraised crotch until his sperm-laden balls slapped hard against the
hairless puckered hole of her tiny naked anal passage. God damn! His
balls ached! The pressure building in him made his head swim with
ever-increasing lust.

Sliding his hand down over the tight skin of her exquisitely formed
buttocks, undulant and lascivious under his palm, he searched with a
finger for the secret, brown ring of the tiny nether orifice nestled
there between the working orbs of her ass- cheeks. He felt her sudden
intake of breath and a loud moan of mixed pleasure and shock came,
involuntarily, from her mouth as he fingered its soft, warm flexing
movements while she thrust up against him, passionately, welding their
loins together in the ages-old dance of genital sex. A small rivulet of
warm, slippery and viscous fluid seeped down to run from her moist,
widespread cunt to moisten her forbidden back passage. Teasingly, his
finger lingered there, taunting it, purposely, before attempting any
further move.

Don looked down at her and said, gutturally, "I-I'm going to do
something now ... that'll really make you flip! I'm going to shove my
finger up your asshole ... as hard as I can!"

And, in spite of her total arousal, Charity was shocked. She struggled
with herself; her breath came short and hard for a moment. There was a
flashing feeling of instant abhorrence that was replaced with equal
speed by a lewdly erotic acceptance of his proposed act, and she was
surprised when she heard her own voice saying: "Yes ... oh, yes ... Don
darling! I want it ... I want you to ... to shove your finger into my
asshole!"

Damn! She learns fast! His body-mind screamed with lust as the words
spilled from her mouth. God damn! His cock felt expanded and hardened
almost to the bursting point! He would explode in jetting streams of
cum, it seemed, in just a few moments. He fumbled, momentarily, his long
finger searching out the round, tightly puckered hole. He found it and
pushed the tip of his finger into it with a quick, almost brutal thrust,
feeling the elastic ring of muscle give way until the soft, spongy
passage accepted it up to the first knuckle.

Christ! He had never had a fuck like this ... never! As his cock fucked
in and out of her, mercilessly, he could feel against the bottom of it
the bulge of his own finger in her rectal passage, and it added another
tremendous surge of sensuous eroticism to his sensate prick driving deep
up in her steaming pussy. He squirmed his finger in harder and heard her
grunt and cough with the discomfort of it, even as her cunt rode up and
down his pulsating member. Then, he began to rotate his finger and
pushing inward at the same time, buried it to his palm deep in the
rubbery warmth of her rectum, and she moaned, incessantly beneath his
rutting body.

Oh, God! God! Never ... never before had she experienced such
pleasure-pain. The pain was there ... in her anal passage, pain caused
from his finger as it wormed salaciously around, now, in rhythm with his
plunging hardness. Clearly, as in a vision, she realized the duality,
for even as the sharp twinges of pain in her rectum gave her tremendous
discomfort, yet there was an unbelievable, over-all, sensuously erotic
ecstasy, the rapture of it pervading and filling her loins and belly and
slashing upward, the sensation was there, also, in her vibrant, swollen
breasts.

And, then, the agony of his anal entry began to subside, as she adjusted
and became accustomed to the foreign presence in her backside. She
couldn't believe it when it happened, for suddenly, the pain of it no
longer bothered her; there was only the pleasure. It was pleasure-plus,
because now the sensations searing her seemed to be heightened, enhanced
and ever more intense. In her desire, she began to consciously work her
rectum back on his finger, impaling her throbbing anus deeply on it,
while at the same time, she tried to absorb more of his beautifully
virile cock deeper and deeper into the coralline passage of her hungrily
clasping cunt.

Don could not control his need any longer. His loins ached with the
built-up pressure. He had to cum! Christ! With insane fury he
jack-hammered into her upthrust cunt, driving for his release. Got to
cum! Got to!

Surprisingly, she had accepted his finger in her asshole without
objection, even, he decided, with delight, and suddenly, he withdrew it,
only to replace it instantly with two fingers, which he thrust into her,
to the very depths, with brutal force. She screamed beneath him. This
was what he wanted! Christ! She'd really flip, now!

He worked the two fingers around, inside the warm, spongy depths of her
backside, feeling his own cock, plainly, as it pistoned back and forth,
in and out of her, through the thin separating tissues of her vaginal
vault and her anal passage, and again, more slowly, her first whimpers
of pain, of objection, began to subside, to be replaced by greater moans
of pleasure as her anus became accustomed to the strange, unnatural
invasion to which he had subjected it.

She sucked, frantically, at his tongue buried deep in her throat, her
hips screwed her rectum back down on his fingers, and yet at the same
time she raised her legs even higher to receive his plundering cock.

Charity moaned, unceasingly, to herself in agonized ecstasy. Oh, God!
She was impaled, hopelessly, on her brother's stiffened lance of a cock
that pounded, mercilessly into her sensate, throbbing cunt, and his
fingers were buried, tightly, in the rubbery warmth of her back passage.
She had never known that such wild, insane rapture could exist, and she
began writhing and squealing in completely uninhibited abandon under the
double ravishment of her loins. Oh, my God! She was so crazy-wild with
desire she thought she might be going insane.

Don Scott had reached the point where he was sure he would go raving mad
if he didn't cum soon. God! He had to cum ... now! He looked downward,
lewdly, to watch his cock as it slipped smoothly in and out of his
sister's hotly clenching cunt, concentrating on the sensation of the
soft, hair-lined folds of her clasping pussy, as it clung, tightly, to
his furious, pile- driving prick thrusting into her without mercy, now!
In an effort to find something else that would hasten his own climax, he
slid his other hand down between them to the widespread lips of her cunt
and fondled them, forcing them tighter around the pistoning shaft of his
maleness, eliciting further moans of pleasure from her; at the same
time, his own sensations were heightened and intensified. Then, he
became acutely aware that the interior muscles of her vagina now
hungrily clutched and clasped at him, rhythmically, massaging his
rock-hard cock in its voracious desire to absorb him deep and deeper up
inside her belly.

Desperately, he tried to increase the speed and depth of his thrusting,
as she squirmed and writhed, wildly, beneath him, grinding up and down
his thundering shaft with unbelievable passionate fury, her beautiful,
tapering thighs jerking wide and upwards, indicating to him, for the
first time, that she was nearing her climax. He pistoned her fast and
furious, pounding his length home to the hilt in her with every
punishing thrust, fucking now with all of the young strength of his back
and legs. Oh, Christ! It was getting nearer now! "Christ, Char ... I'm
ready to cream!" he bleated.

He pulled his fingers out of her rectum with a moist hissing sound as he
pressed his hands, brutally, behind her knees and shoved them back and
down, hard, until her head was framed between them, raising the whole
plane of her crotch up higher and wider, completely open and vulnerable
to his cruel, almost inhuman battering thrustings into her wide open
cunt. God! She had never had a fuck like this one!

Don grunted, animalistically, deep in his throat in his effort to drive
his prick up into the tender, coral flesh of her vaginal cavern ... and
he was suddenly afraid, afraid that he would not be able to bring her to
her second orgasm, that he would cum too soon. Hell! He had tried so
hard. He couldn't fail her now! More than anything else he wanted
Charity, his lovely sister, to have another soaring climax. He watched
her passion-contorted face above her heaving, quivering breasts that
jounced prettily as the shocks of his pummeling, punishing cock in her
cunt were transmitted through her body, watched as the berry-like
nipples of them expanded before his eyes and small rivulets of
passion-produced perspiration ran down their mounding hemispheres into
the valley between.

For one horrified second he thought he had failed, as he felt it
beginning for him, back behind his prick, in his sperm-swollen balls.
God damn it!

He pounded deeper and faster into her, with every bit of his strength.
He, literally, gave her everything he had in him ... and as he felt her
spasm, wildly, under him, her cuntal lips sucking at him, voraciously,
he felt his own hot, white sperm begin to race the length of his prick
in welcome release, his ecstasy knowing no bounds as his body convulsed
in one final, slamming plunge far up into the far, hidden recesses of
her still cumming little pussy, the semen jetting from him through the
tiny slit in his cock-head to squirt in a seemingly never-ending stream
of hot, white ejaculate ... and she ground her crotch up to him, to take
all of him ... to receive all of his hosing fluids deep into her young,
wildly contracting womb.

Charity moaned aloud. Her white, sculpted thighs quivered and her belly
quaked with the intense pleasure of her own orgasm. She could clearly
feel the expansion of his cock buried in her and the warm moistness of
his sperm as it splashed around in the lower depths of her cuntal
passage and belly. Dear God in Heaven! Never had she realized that pure
joy, such as she now experienced existed on the face of the earth. With
a final convulsion, she allowed her legs to fall limp and widely splayed
to either side, shamelessly, while her heart pounded in her breast and
she gasped for breath, gulping air into her laboring lungs to forestall
the dizziness that tried to overcome her. Her eyes were clenched tightly
shut as wave after wave of relaxing euphoria swept through her. She was
fulfilled and completely satiated.

Her brother collapsed on top of her pinning her to the mattress under
him. She tried to think clearly, but no coherent thought came to her.
Every fiber of her being was concerned only with the physical part of
her. Later, she would be rational and try to think through what had
happened, but for now she found it impossible.

One thing she did know for sure: She had really and truly been fucked!
Her brother's cock was still buried in her. His body lay relaxed and
panting on top of her, and she could feel the liquid warmth of his semen
as it began to run in a tiny, viscous rivulet from the mouth of her
vagina down through the open crevice of her buttocks to pool on the
sheet beneath her.

"How'd you dig that ... Sis?" he whispered breathlessly.

"God ... Don! It was really something ... out of this world!" she
murmured, her breath still coming hard.

"Out of sight!"

"Yes!" she agreed. "Out of sight!"

She was still in a drugged state, and soon, she was sound asleep. It was
later -- how much later she didn't know -- that she was awakened by her
brother, as he stirred and rolled to one side to lie beside her, his
flaccid penis pulling from her with a slightly moist popping sound.
Almost automatically he reached out a hand to her and brush his fingers
in the hair of her pubic mound. His youth had marvelous regenerative
powers for his sexuality. He would have been ready to fuck her, again,
in an instant.

Sleepily, she placed a restraining hand on his. It would be impossible,
she knew now, for them to ever do it, again.

She murmured, "No ... Don! Once is enough for a brother and sister ...
maybe too much! We lost our heads ... maybe ... but it can never happen,
again!"

"It could ... if we decided we wanted to! After all ... it's the
twentieth century! We could be careful ... from now on ... and nobody'd
ever know ..."

"B-But ... I could get ... pregnant ... and that would be bad!" she told
him with emphasis.

"But ..."

Charity swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stood to her feet,
reached out for her nightgown and shrugged it over her head. Covered,
now, she faced him.

"I-It's no good ... Don! I-I really flipped ... and I loved every minute
of it ... but it's impossible! We just can't ever let it happen, again!"

She unlocked the door, went through it and padded back to her own
bedroom, leaving her brother lying nude on his bed, a dumbfounded look
on his face. She crawled into her own bed and was soon sleeping soundly,
again. She was completely satiated, tired and drained. As she settled
down in her own bed, she knew how easy it would have been for her to
remain in Don's bed, letting him fuck her the rest of the night. Dear
God! It had taken all of her will-power to leave him, for she knew that
she was a fully aroused woman, now; a woman who would have definite
sexual needs. Certainly, her wonderful brother could serve those needs,
but the built-in taboos of civilized man were too deeply ingrained in
her. Incest! My God! She had been a party to it once ... But never ...
never, again, she vowed would it happen between them. She loved him too
much!

Charity did not awaken when her mother came into her bedroom, gazed down
at her for a moment, leaned down and kissed her smooth, tranquil brow
and lips; however, a few moments later she was awakened by a sudden,
sharp sound.

She sat up, listening; it was the front door of the house. I had opened
and shut, noisily, as it always did. The first rays of the sun streamed
into her bedroom through the window, as outside, in the driveway, she
heard her mother's car start, its engine cold and coughing in the early
morning chill. Idly, Charity wondered where her mother might be going so
early. She started to get out of bed to investigate when she spotted the
envelope addressed to her in her mother's small but flowing script. With
pounding heart she ripped open the letter and read it. She read it
through twice.

Chapter 7

Jack Belleson came charging into the Police Building in downtown
Redfern. He was bellowing angry words as he approached the night desk.

"What kind of a God damned town you got here? Nobody's safe here! I was
just robbed! The son-of-a-bitch got $79.00!"

The desk-sergeant looked up at him, levelly, and asked, "Do you want to
make a report, Sir?"

"You're damned right! And, then I want you to do something about it!"

"I realize you're disturbed, Sir ... and I'd appreciate it if you'd calm
down and give me the details ..."

"Yes, sir ... otherwise, I can't make heads or tails out of what you're
saying!" The sergeant's voice was steely. "Your name, Sir?"

"Jack Belleson ..."

"Your age ...

"What the hell's my age got to ...?"

"Your age ... Sir?"

"Forty-six."

"Occupation?"

"Salesman ... When do I get to tell you what hap ..."

"What time did this happen?"

"A little after one ..."

"Can you describe the person ... or persons?"

"A kid ... on a motorcycle ... I couldn't see his face ..."

"How old would you say?"

"Sixteen ... seventeen ..."

"The make of the motorcycle?"

"I didn't notice ... but come to think of it ... it was covered up!" the
salesman said.

"Did you notice the license tag?"

"No!"

"Weapon?"

"A pistol ... sort of short, snub-nosed ..."

The questioning went on, until the sergeant was satisfied that he had a
complete report. "We don't have too much to go on ... there're probably
two or three hundred kids ride motor bikes in the area ... but we'll
start checking out some things on these."

"You're not going to put out a bulletin on it call your cruisers on the
radio?"

"What ... and stop every kid riding a motorcycle, tonight?"

"Sure ... round them up?"

The sergeant looked at him in disbelief, shook his head and said,
"Mister ... we can't work like that ... in this country!"

"What do you mean ...?" The salesman didn't understand.

"This is Redfern, California ... U.S.A."

"Then, you're not going to do anything ...?"

"I didn't say that! I said that we're not going to go out and bring in
every teen-age kid who happens to be riding a motorcycle!"

"I know you said that, but ..."

"Because ... Mister Belleson ... It's only a coincidence that the boy
who robbed you ... was also riding a motorcycle! We'll be checking out
on it, tomorrow!" The sergeant turned away to attend to a trivial matter
on his desk.

"Is that all ...?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Christ ... I'm in your town a few hours and three violent things happen
to me! I still want to know ... what kind of a crazy town this is?"

"Do you have something else to report?"

"Oh, well ... that other thing's been taken care of ..." the salesman
backtracked. "Some fellow name of Scott punched me in the jaw!"

"Have you preferred charges?"

"Well ... I was supposed to come down here to do that tomorrow .... I
mean this morning ... but I'm not so sure I want to spend another minute
in the fucking town.!"

"Then ... you want to drop charges against Mr. Scott?"

"Hell no! I want him kept locked up!"

"We can't do that without formal charges?"

"I'll be a son-of-a-bitch ... what can you do?"

"Prosecute him ... when proper charges have been made against him!"

"Then, if I leave ... nothing happens to him?"

The desk-sergeant surveyed the salesman with disdain. "That's right!
Gabby'll just get dried out, again ..."

"Gabby?"

"Mr. Scott ... he's been with us, before. "Christ! There must be some
kind of collusion ... you pigs protecting young hoodlums ... and town
drunks that assault people ..."

"Mr. Belleson! You're getting abusive! I'd suggest that you stop, now!
Otherwise, I could arrange for you to share a cell with Mr. Scott!"

The salesman looked at the sergeant in disbelief and backed away toward
the door. "Shit! I-I don't understand it ... I come in here to report a
r-robbery ... and I get threatened with arrest! Christ! I wouldn't stay
in the town for another minute!" He turned to flee. "I take it you're
dropping the charges against Gabby?"

"Do what you want with him! I'm leaving ... and I'll make damned sure
never to come back!" He leaped for the door and made his way hastily
through it, flinging back over his shoulder, "Fuck you! Fuck this whole
Goddamned town!"

What was she to do, then, with her life? She had passed by the morbid
moment in which she had contemplated suicide. If she could not die ...
she must live, but living in this house, with her family, would be out
of the question. It would be better if left .... just drive away from it
all!

Her solution was a cop-out; of course, taking her own life was but a
manifestation of the same thing. Running away from her present life, was
the only idea that pervaded her mind. She must get away ... At least ...
if I'm gone ... Charity and Donnie won't find out about me ... And the
life I've been leading!

Then, there was the incestuous sex act she had overheard. She had
already decided that she could do nothing about it. No! There was one
thing she could do; she owed it to Charity for her own protection, but
not, she knew, for peace of mind ... for either her or her daughter.

Her mind was made up, the sooner she left the better. With resolute
steadfastness of purpose, dry-eyed, now, she began to dress. Afterward,
she packed, selecting the best garments from her wardrobe and limiting
herself to taking only two suitcases and her cosmetic case.

She took her small cache of money from her dresser drawer, counted it,
counted it, again, to make sure. Twenty dollars was missing. Was the
money lost ... or stolen? A burglar would have taken all of it, and she
was sure there was no way for it to become lost. Gabe? Possibly.
Charity? A definite no, she decided. Donnie? The most likely! She knew
instantly that it was unfair. She really had no way of knowing, and she
dismissed it from her mind. Why should she try to find out which of her
family was the thief? Taking the twenty dollar bill the salesman had
left on the top of the dresser into her hand, she contemplated whether
or not she really wanted it. Somehow, that particular bill was a symbol
of evil, but was it any more evil than the other $240.00 she had just
stuffed into her purse? It had all been earned in the same way! Oh, well
... I might need it! Who knows which thorn hurts worst ... when you fall
into a clump of cactus?

One, final item remained for her to do. She forced herself to it,
removing a piece of her ultra-feminine stationery from its box and
taking pen in hand to write a letter ... a letter of farewell to her
daughter, Charity.

The letter finished, over which she had agonized for more than a half
hour, she read it and decided that she would change nothing in it ...
for nothing could be changed. The letter=93=93and her life, as she had
lived it=93=93would have to stand. She had told her daughter the brutal
truth about herself!

I'll leave it on her pillow ... where she'll be sure to find it!

The first streaks of grey dawn filtered into Charity's room as Dottie
tiptoed in, not really expecting to find her lovely daughter there, but
she was pleasantly surprised. Charity was asleep, beautiful as before,
her lovely face serene, seemingly unchanged; however, as she gazed on
the innocent face of her daughter, Dottie knew that the girl had just
leaped into full-blown womanhood ... in her own brother's bed!

Dear God forgive me ...

She leaned over and brushed her lips in a light kiss across her
daughter's slightly opened mouth. Placing the envelope on the pillow
near the cascading auburn tresses, she left the room, hastily, picked up
her suitcases and left by the front door.

As she turned the key in the ignition, there was a sudden catch in her
throat. She had promised herself that she would not cry. God! I've shed
enough tears! There're no more left! Steeling herself, she started the
engine and drove away. She had no idea where she was going, but
automatically, she turned eastward, Into the rising sun, a dim thought
in her mind that she would head toward Michigan, the state where she had
been born and where she had spent her early childhood and adolescence.

Quickly, Charity stuffed her mother's letter under her pillow. No one
must ever know of its existence! She would hide it ... or destroy it,
later. Jumping from her bed she ran into her parents' bedroom. She had
to be sure! The room was in disarray, the closet almost empty and
drawers left open. It was true! Her mother had really left!

Almost frantically, she dashed to the front door, flung it open and ran
out onto the porch. Her mother's car was gone. The street was silent and
empty. Then, her tears came. "Mom ... oh, mom!" she cried, turning back
to shuffle into the living room.

Donnie heard her cry of anguish, arose, slipped into his jeans and raced
for the living room. He found his sister crumpled into the cushions of
the couch.

"What's with, Char ...? What's happening?"

"Mom ... sh-she's left us ...!" she sobbed.

He was incredulous. "How do you know?"

"H-Her clothes a-are g-gone ... and I-I heard her drive away ....!"

"I'll be damned! She copped out first!" he mused.

He sat down beside her leaned down, put his arm around her and tried to
console her. "Don't flip ... Sis ... it's not ..." he began.

Don Scott was really not disturbed very much. The fact of his mother's
flight was, in his mind, ironic. She had just beat him to the punch.
Shit! This family has been falling apart for a hell of a long time! But,
Char and I ... we could get along all right. She's practically all I've
got, now ... all the family I've got!

In his room, again, he dressed and came back out to the kitchen to
forage for breakfast. He couldn't sleep any more now, even if he wanted
to do so. His mind was busy with his own plans. The certainty of his
thoughts centered around the fact that he, too, would have to leave soon
... very soon! He doubted that he could live in the same house with
Charity without trying to make her, again ... and again. And, she's got
an attack of conscience .... telling me never to touch her, again. Well
... that's not too much of a surprise. The idea of getting fucked by
your brother is .... pretty far out ... for her ... I guess. One thing
... the next guy that gets into her is going to get a lighted
firecracker! He'll know he's been somewhere when he crawls off of her!

He decided that he'd have to see Ray Donahue, and to do that he'd have
to go to school, of course, he didn't have to stay there. He and Ray
could split, go truant ... maybe Ray could come up with some ideas for
raising more bread. It was necessary he have some stake before he took
off; a person couldn't go on the street with nothing in his jeans. He
figured, roughly, that he should have a couple hundred dollars in
addition to what he had taken from the salesman. It was Ray, he was
sure, who could come up with some surefire possibilities.

His thoughts, again, went back to Charity, and the memory of her
beautiful young body, as it writhed in uncontrolled passion under him,
made his blood begin to run hot in his veins and his penis to come up
hard and erect. Damn! I've got to figure a way to get her in the sack,
again! She's the hottest little cunt I've ever seen or even heard about!
Of course, it could've been the pot that turned her on so hard ... but,
Christ ... I think she's just naturally hot ... like mom probably is!
The grass! Man! That's it! I could get her to turn on with that ...
almost any time! I think she sort of flipped for it ... and I'd bet
she's not a one- time girl for that!

Charity came through the dining room headed for her bedroom. Don looked
up, noted her tear-streaked and swollen face, He started to say
something, thought better of it and asked, instead, "You going to
school, today, Char ...?"

She didn't look at him. "No ..." she answered, dismally. "I c-can't go
to school, today ... Will you pick up my assignments for me ...?"

"Yeah ... sure ... if I get a chance."

"Don't put yourself out ...!" Her voice was loaded with sarcasm.

"Char ...?" he called, as she went through her door. "You going to be
all right, here ... by yourself?"

"I-I can take care of myself!" she snapped, closing the door hard.
Inside her bedroom, she finished it for herself, "I-I'll have to ...
from now on!"

Don studied her closed door, for a moment, and observed to himself. "Too
much ... but hell ... things are kind of strung out for her ... I guess
..."

He arose, went out to his motorcycle, kicked the engine into roaring
life and headed out for his high school. He felt a measure of sympathy
for his sister, but he had his own problems to work out. The sooner he
split this bad scene the better!

* * *

"Lady, you got a problem ... best I can tell you got some burned valves
... maybe some bad bearings! Can't tell until we open it up ..."

"H-How much would it cost me ... t-to get it going, again?" she asked.

Mentally, she calculated, casting her assets against the expense of the
repairs and her forced stay. There would barely be enough money for it,
but she wouldn't have money to continue her flight.

"All right ... I-It has to be repaired ..." she said, making her
decision. "Is there a good m-motel near here ...?"

"Sure ... right down the avenue ... be glad to run you down there in my
pick-up."

He helped her with her luggage, carrying it into the room for her. It
wasn't his usual services; hell, she was traveling alone and in trouble,
and it didn't hurt business to put himself out a little.

Dottie stopped him at the door. "Thank you ever so much ... Mr. ...?"

"Davis ... Bill Davis ..." he said, smiling.

She arched her eyebrows at him and smiled, "C-Could we make a deal ...
on the car repairs ...?" she asked. "I-I'm alone and ..."

Her invitation was instantly clear to him. He looked at her, admiring
what he saw and said, "Lady ... I really can't afford something like you
... I'm just a plain old knucklebuster with a wife and four kids! Why
don't you try some of the downtown cocktail lounges ... the hunting's a
lot better!"

The mechanic left. He was elated. Damn! What a woman! It's too bad I'm
such an old stick-in-the-mud married man! She'd really be something! Oh,
well ... I can dream!
That evening, she dragged herself out, wearily, taxied downtown, found
the most likely looking lounge and went in to sit alone ... but only for
a while.

She turned two tricks, satisfying both johns, in all particulars to the
tune of fifty a piece, finally saying goodnight to the second one, an
aging, Loan Company executive at two in the morning. To get rid of him,
she had to promise that she would see him, again, some three days later.

"Of course, I'll be here ... about ten in that same place ... The Palo
..." she stumbled on the name. She had had a couple more drinks than she
was used to drinking. "... that club where I met you ..."

"The Palomino Club ..." he corrected.

"That's right ... how could I forget ... Then, it's settled .... Three
days ... ten o'clock ... the Palomino Club ... Goodnight ...." she
smiled.

Her smile slid off her face as soon as the door was closed behind her.
God! I'm tired!

She stuffed the bills into her purse. It would take another night like
this one to get her out of Phoenix. As she stepped into the shower to
wash off some of the unseen filth, she imagined was clinging to her
skin, she saw herself in the mirror and smiled ruefully at the reflected
contours of her lovely body. Well ... I'm on my own ... completely and
absolutely! All I've got is me .... and a beautiful shell of a body ...
and to keep going ... I'll have to make it on my back ... with a cock in
my cunt! ... And, there were no tears. She had already cried them all.

* * *

"Has my wife shown up here ...?" he demanded.

"No ... not yet."

"I'll be damned!"

He rode the bus home, getting off on the Avenue and walking the few
blocks, his anger increasing with almost every step. He stormed into the
house, shouting, "Dottie! Dottie ... you bitch .... where the hell are
you?"

Charity heard him coming and prudently locked the connecting door from
the bathroom to her parents' bedroom. She was standing at the sink,
half-nude, washing her hair.

She heard her father in their bedroom as he slammed around and came to
the realization that his wife was gone. He tried the bathroom door,
found it locked and shook the door. "Dottie ... are you in there?" he
bellowed.

"No ... I'm here!" Charity said.

"Where's the hell your mother?"

"She split!"

"Talk English!" he demanded. "It looks like she's left!"

"That's right, Dad ... she's gone!"

"Where? When did she leave? Did she leave a note ... or anything?"

"I don't know where ... She left early this morning ... and, no ... she
didn't leave a note!"

"God damn it! You must be mistaken! She just wouldn't take off ... just
like that ... with no explanation!"

"Well, she did ... and I am not mistaken.!"

There was a short silence on the other side of the door, then he asked,
"How come you're not in school?"

"I just couldn't go to school, today," she said, "because ... it isn't
every day ... a person wakes up and finds out that her mother ..." she
paused, catching herself, before she went on to finish, "... has left
... Gone ... for good!"

"Yeah ... yeah ... I-I guess you're right ... Charity ..." There was a
trace of sadness in his voice, now, maybe even of understanding. He fell
silent, and she heard him sit down, heavily, on the bed.

Gabe didn't know what to think. He didn't really have any concrete proof
that Dottie had been selling her body to men ... acting the whore. There
had been only the allegation that salesman had made, before he had
jumped up to fight the fellow for having made it. True. He had always
been a little too hasty with his fists. The time in jail had cooled him
off and dried him out, and he had wanted to hear it from Dottie,
herself. He was going to confront her with it. When she had not shown up
at the police station, then finding that she had left him, with no
explanation, only served to condemn her the more, in his mind. Christ!
Maybe it's true! Instead of punching that guy ... maybe I should have
bought him a drink and thanked him for telling me the truth! I'd be the
last one to know ... it seems like your friends will never tell you ...
even if they knew!

Morosely, Gabe went into the kitchen, found a can of beer in the
refrigerator, opened it and sucked on the alcoholic brew.

Hell, I guess it was just a matter of time before Dottie would have
pulled up stakes, anyway. I haven't been very much of a husband ... or
provider for her and the two kids.

He congratulated himself that he was able to be as objective as he was
being at that moment. A flashing thought that he dismissed almost as
soon as it appeared across his mind. I'll have to do something, I
suppose, about getting a job to keep some food in the house ... pay the
rent ... and all that crap ... but to hell with that, right now. I'm
just going to get drunk ... and forget all about it!

Searching his pockets, he found enough money to buy a pint of cheap
liquor. He didn't care what it was, just as long as it was alcohol.

After he finished off the can of beer, he got up and walked out the
door, headed for the liquor store down on the Avenue.

Charity heard him leave and decided that she would not stay in the
house, alone with him. She had been too much aware, lately, of his
leering looks. Her newfound self-knowledge concerning her own sexuality,
her desirability, made her worldly-wise, quite suddenly. It would he
just horrible ... If he tried to ... to do something!

Hastily, she dried her hair, tied a kerchief around it and dressed
herself in jeans and blouse. She was not sure where she would go, but
she would not return until Donnie was there, in the house, with her.
Donnie would understand, she was sure; she would tell him of her fears
... even somewhat unfounded as they may be .... and ask him to see to it
that she was never, never left alone with their father.

She let herself out the back door and walked down the alley, thinking
vaguely that she would catch a bus to the downtown, and merely float
around window-shopping to kill the time until school would be dismissed.
Her purse, she found contained enough change for the bus and a coke. At
least I'll he out of his reach! It's just horrible to think that I can't
t-trust him. Ugh! His eyes when he looks at me ... just like he was
mentally undressing me!

Gabe returned with some gin. He didn't like the stuff, especially, but
he bought the cheapest he could get for the money he had, just for the
temporary drowning of his troubles.

Looking into their bedroom, a sort of automatic assurance that he had
read the situation right the first time, he spotted Dottie's box of
stationery. Idly, he opened it. The top sheet had the impression of
writing on it. Damn! This sheet was under something she wrote!

He took it to the light and searched it carefully, but he could not make
it out. Carrying the fancy sheet of paper into the dining room he found
a soft pencil and scribbled across it. Words came up on the sheet ...
readable words!

MY DEAREST DARLING DAUGHTER, he read, I'M GOING TO BE LEAVING YOU, IN A
FEW MINUTES. THE REASONS ARE HARD TO PUT DOWN ON PAPER, BUT THERE ARE
SOME THINGS I WANT YOU TO KNOW BEFORE I LEAVE.

There was nothing more on the sheet. It was as though she had realized
she had two sheets, removed the bottom one and, unthinkingly, returned
it to the box.

God damn! There was a note! Charity lied to me!

Angrily, he strode to her door, bellowing, "Charity! are you in there?"

There was no answer. He opened the door and walked into her bedroom. She
was not there, nor was she in the bathroom.

She must have hidden it!

He looked into every possible hiding place, sure that there was a note,
and that his daughter had hidden it.

With a shout of triumph, he found it, after almost twenty-five minutes
of diligent searching. He recognized the envelope, instantly, as
belonging to the same box of stationery. He had found it on the inside
of Charity's English book.

He read, avidly.

"Christ!" he said aloud to himself. "It's good to know the truth ... the
real truth, after all these years!"

His eyes lighted up with a quick thought. "... And, it's a whole new
ball game! This puts a different light on things!"

His imagination began to work. There's no reason now! Christ! After all
this time of wanting her ... and thinking that I couldn't have her ...
and now this ... this confession of Dottie's makes everything different!
Charity, baby ... you've had it coming .... for a long time ... and now
I'm going to give it to you ... good!

He could feel his erection building down below, beginning to bulge in
his pants. Reaching down to it, lewdly, he caressed its length. "It
won't be long, now!"

Gabriel Scott didn't get drunk, after all. He limited himself to three
drinks, because he wanted to be sober. A sloppy drunk man doesn't
perform as well as one who is relatively in possession of his wits ...
and his senses, and above all, he wanted to be in complete command of
all his sensations when he got into bed with young Charity Scott, his
wife's daughter!

Chapter 8

Many things were now extremely clear to Gabriel Scott. He settled back
in his favorite chair nursing his gin tonic, promising himself that,
tonight, he wouldn't get sloppy drunk. Hell! He had waited too damned
long! After having read the note his wife, Dottie, had written to her
daughter, Charity, revealing the truth of her paternity, Gabe's memory
went back to years ago when he and Dottie were married.

How had it happened? He hadn't understood it then. He hadn't understood
why or how it was that Dottie had ignored him ... then, suddenly, before
he knew what was happening, he was married to her. He had had Dottie out
on a couple of dates, but he hadn't been able to get a third one with
her; meanwhile, he knew, she had been dating some of the Redfern College
men. Christ! He hadn't had time to ask himself what was happening. She
was just there ... and available. He had taken her to a drive-in movie
and was pleasantly surprised when she allowed some heavy petting.

... But, on their next date, that same week, she had pleaded not feeling
well and didn't want to go skating.

"... Maybe, we could just go for a ride, in your car ... Gabe ...." she
suggested. "If you don't mind ...?"

"Okay."

He had been driving his old Mercury station wagon, the car on which he
had, painstakingly, restored the wooden body to its original condition.
He was proud of the car and liked to show it off. Naturally, he wanted
to show Dottie off, too. He cruised the streets of Redfern, stopping at
a drive-in hamburger stand that was a favored hangout for the high
school crowd. They ate burgers, fries and drank cokes. Gabe felt just a
little proud to be seen with the girl who was, undoubtedly, the most
beautiful in their senior class. She was by far the most popular, too,
and he didn't question why she chose to go out with him. The fact that
she was there with him was enough ... and there seemed to be a promise
of more intimacy to come. Damn! She's beautiful! I wonder if I've got
any chance at all ... of getting next to her ...? Christ! I'll bet she's
a damned good lay!

It hadn't taken very long to find out. As they drove away from the
hamburger stand, Dottie had slid over close to him. "Let's drive up into
the mountains, Gabe ... where it's nice and quiet ... okay?" she asked.

"... And private ...?" he added.

"Real private!" Dottie affirmed.

With a worried look at the fuel gauge, he made a quick estimate of the
distance and a mental calculation of the money he possessed. He couldn't
do it, he decided, but he could find that privacy. It was not very far
away. He laid it on the line to her, honestly, "I don't have enough gas
... or money, Dottie ... but I know a place where we can park ... and
have all the privacy we want ...."

She snuggled her face into his shoulder and murmured, "Go wherever you
want to ... we don't have to go to the mountains."

Damn! Her talk of privacy had his mind whirling, already. Was she
thinking about what she was saying? Some real privacy could lead to real
lovemaking, not just the heavy petting she had allowed him the last
time. Christ! I'm getting hot, already ... just thinking about the
possibility of getting it into her!

Gabe had driven out the Avenue past the turnoff to his own home. The
whole area was' planted in citrus, the groves bordering the avenue
thickly with only an occasional house standing tall and Victorian amidst
the trees. He turned onto a dirt road to the left, stopped at a locked
gate, got out of the car, produced a key to the padlock, opened it and
drove the car through. As he got back into the car, Dottie asked him,
"How come you've got a key ....?"

"We're on the back side of my old man's property," he told her, "and our
house is just down this road a ways ..."

"Oh ..."

He became expansive, then. "It's all going to be mine ... someday!"

"Do you want to raise oranges ...?"

"Yeah ... I guess so," he said, "My granddad planted the trees, my dad
inherited the place ... and it looks like I'm expected to carry it on.
Soon as I graduate I'm supposed to go to work for dad, full time!"

She was impressed. "Not very many boys know exactly what they're going
to do!" she observed.

"I guess not ..." He was nonchalant. He had parked the Mercury in a
little cleared area where agricultural implements were stored. There
were barrels of oil, lubricants, fuel and pesticides stacked about. When
he turned off the car's lights it was almost pitch black and very few
sounds penetrated through the thick foliage of the orange trees.

"Is this private enough?" he asked, reaching out for her.

Dottie had come easily into his arms, her face lifted to him for his
kiss. He kissed her tenderly, at first, and as her lips parted he thrust
his tongue, hungrily, into her mouth to probe, taste and savor her. Her
avid response surprised him.

With a little moan, she had pressed against him, the mounding
hemispheres of her breasts crushing up warmly between them. He felt the
slight tremor in her body that seemed to signal desire. In the darkness,
he pulled back from her, slightly; he could barely see the outlines of
her face. Her eyes were closed; her mouth still parted. Christ! She's
got hot pants!

His hand reached out to her, found and encompassed a breast, his fingers
kneading and massaging as his lips found hers, again. He found himself
mumbling, "God ... you're beautiful, Dottie!"

For answer, another little moan escaped her lips, and she tentatively
snaked her tongue into his mouth, searchingly. He sucked it, gently, for
a few moments, then, voraciously, as she became bolder, her tongue,
searching and teasing the inside of his mouth.

Below, the hot blood surged, quickeningly, and his tumescent, erect
penis throbbed and jerked against the confining fabric of his pants. He
shifted, uncomfortably, in the seat of the car, his hand going to his
crotch to move his aching cock to a more comfortable position; then that
same hand drifted to her warm, smooth thigh, moving up under her skirt
to the wisp of nylon panties that encased her loins.

"No ... p-please, Gabe ... I'm not ..." she mumbled up into his mouth,
pulling back only slightly, her objection not entirely convincing, as
his hand continued to wander, searchingly, over the warm smoothness of
thigh and hip.

"I've got to ... have you ... Dottie! God! I'm so hot ...! I've got to
... to fuck you! I love you ... so very much!"

She pulled away from him and smoothed down her skirt. "I-I like you, too
... Gabe ... b-but love ... a-and sex ... are for marriage ... and ..."
She turned her head away from him.

"Couldn't you learn to love me ...?"

Facing him, again, she said, "Y-Yes ... maybe ... but we can't ....
well, you know ... we couldn't do it ... before we ..."

"Before we get married ...?" He finished her unspoken sentence.

"Yes ..."

"... But ... if we were sure ...?"

"How could we ever be sure?" she asked.

"God, Dottie! I've loved you for months ... already ... ever since you
came to school the first day after you moved here!"

His confession of love for her came from a youthful heart, a heart
brimming over with sentimentality, but in truth, it was the virile
member, aching for carnal knowledge of her that throbbed out its message
there below. His was a common confusion, the misunderstanding of the
meaning of love, which is the substitution of sex for love.

Gathering her into his arms, again, he kissed her with brutal force,
then more tenderly as she melted against him, her breath beginning to
come in short panting gasps; while his hands moved on her, she responded
to him more and more until, finally, his searching hand, below, slipped
between her thighs ... and her legs parted, slightly, to allow him
access. God! He almost went insane with desire. Now, he knew that she
was aroused ... ready to be laid! And, he could hardly wait, as he
stroked and massaged the moist warmth of her cunt through the thin nylon
barrier of her panties.

"Oh, Gabe ... n-no ... we mustn't ..." she gasped, but in his highly
aroused state, there was no stopping him, as with a boldness born of
desperate need, he reached up for the elastic band at her waist and
pulled her panties down over her curvaceous hips and thighs. Again, her
voice told him no but her actions said plainly yes. He hadn't had to
work very hard to get her panties off; she had helped him and he hadn't
been aware of it. "P-Please, Gabe we mustn't ... I-I've never ..."

"I love you ... Dottie! I've got to ..."

He was clumsy and inexperienced; she managed to guide his finger to her
clitoris, and when she was ready, she helped him to get his erect and
pulsing penis into the proper position, after he had, himself, tried ...
and missed. With proper surprise, she remarked his size and virility.

"Oh, Gabe ... i-it's so huge ... it'll hurt me! N-No!"

Blinded by passion, proud of his virile cock and sure that he was the
first, he had gone into her with a rush of youthful vigor, jackhammering
his virgin cock into her like a young, rutting bull, concentrating on
his own enjoyment and his great need to cum to the exclusion of all
else.

... But, had he been aware, he would have known that he could not
possibly have been the first. She was not virgin, although her cunt was
tight and firm around his rampaging cock ... and she was too
knowledgeable, even though she had tried to hide her experience behind a
facade of demure maidenliness. He had been too callow ... too raw a
youth, and he fell into an ages-old trap.

Dottie exploded into orgasm under his pounding cock, screaming out her
pleasure to the stygian darkness of the orange grove. "Ohhhhh! Oh, God!
Gaaaaaaaaabe! I'mmmmmmmm cuuuummmmmiiinnnggg! AAaaaaggghhh!"

His own ejaculation was not far behind her soaringly rapturous ecstasy.
The liquid fire of his sperm shot from him deep up into her belly.
Christ! He had never felt anything like that before. It was wonderfully
new and strange ... and he loved her for it! "Oh, God! I Move you,
Dottie!"

Then ... it had been two weeks later -- there had been other nights of
clandestine sex, wild, carefree and careless, in the back of his station
wagon parked in the orange grove -- when she had told him, "G-Gabe ...
you keep s-saying you l-love me ... a-and I-I love you, too ... but now
w-we've got to do s-something about it ..."

"What do you mean ...?"

"We've got to g-get married ... I'm going to h-have a b-baby!" she told
him in a rush.

"My God! How do you know ... for sure?"

"I'm sure!" she said. "N-nature doesn't lie!"

Within another two weeks, Gabe and Dottie were married. There had been
the usual family recriminations, but in the end Dottie had moved into
the Scott house where the newlywed couple set up housekeeping.

I was a blind, stupid fool ... any son-of-a-bitch could have figured it
out! Dottie trapped me ... made me think that Charity was my kid! ...
And, she fooled me ... for all these years! Of course, Donnie's mine ...
there's no doubt about that!

He nursed his drink and waited. She would have to come back, he told
himself; Dottie's little bastard daughter would have to come back,
because she had taken nothing with her. She had merely left for a few
hours ... But, when you get back Charity, Baby ... I'm going to give it
to you ... but good!

All his hate, his frustrations and his failures were concentrated in a
warped plan for revenge ... against his wife's daughter, Charity.

* * *

"We could hit a liquor store or a service station ..." Don suggested. So
far he had avoided telling Ray about the robbery of the salesman; he had
no intention of telling him. Hell! He might want a split ... because I
used his gun!

"It's too risky, Don!" Ray told him. "I don't dig that! They really lay
you out on that kind of a charge ... if you get caught!"

"You got any better ideas ...?"

"Whatever we do it's got to be safe!"

Ray looked off down the street to where a vaguely familiar figure was
seated near a fountain. "Hey, man ... isn't that your sister ...?" He
pointed.

"Yeah ... it sure as hell is!" Donnie's heart skipped a beat. What the
hell is she doing downtown?

Ray looked at him in disbelief. "Like ... are you saying you've laid her
... your own sister ...?"

"I didn't say any such thing!" Don barked.

"Don't try to put me on, man ... I heard you, and I saw the way you
looked at her!" Ray said. "You must've fucked her!"

"... And, what if I did ...?"

"You trying to save it all for yourself?" Ray leered.

"What are you driving at ...?"

"Christ, man! It's right in front of you! Spread a little bit of her
sunshine around ... Don!"

"And ..."

"And we've got that bundle of bread!"

"Hell no! That'd be just like ..." He caught himself before the words
were out of his mouth, as he realized that he was going to say: our mom!
He finished the unspoken part weakly, "You know .... like making a whore
out of her!"

"Split ... and meet me at my house ... my folks are gone ... some kind
of meeting in Chicago ..."

"When?"

"Oh, like an half hour."

Don rose to his feet and ambled down the picturesque mall toward where
he had parked his motorbike next to Ray's enclosed van. Christ! This is
crazy! I'm going to be watching ... while he tries to get Charity into
the sack! That's what I want, myself! .... And, I didn't want some other
guy in on the act! Come to think of it, though ... there's a lot of
sharing, like that ... when you're on the street!

* * *

... But, she had enjoyed it. The rapture, the ecstasy of the moment was
more than she had ever dreamed! She had soared to bursting orgasm under
him, but still that sense of right and wrong was with her, strong in her
to the point of disgust. After all ... sex activity between brother and
sister was one of the strongest taboos of civilized man, and she had
violated it! Dear God! It'll never happen again! That's one thing I know
for sure! ... I'll never let Donnie know that we're only half-sister and
brother! Heaven only knows what he'd do!

That had been the third and worst blow of all! Their mother had run away
... copped out on them, unable, apparently, to face the consequences of
her own actions; however, before leaving, she had written a note to
Charity, the words of which still burned, indelibly, into her mind. It
was this terrible knowledge that had pierced her heart like a
cold-bladed dagger, a knife that had been twisted in her, for good
measure. GABRIEL SCOTT IS NOT YOUR REAL FATHER. HE DOESN'T KNOW THIS,
AND THERE WOULD BE LITTLE POINT, NOW, IN TELLING HIM. THERE IS ALSO NO
NEED FOR ME TO TELL YOU HIS NAME ... EXCEPT TO TELL YOU THAT HE WAS A
FINE AND GOOD MAN, A MAN WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR HIS COUNTRY. HE DIED IN
KOREA. HE NEVER KNEW THAT OUR LOVE HAD RESULTED IN THE BIRTH OF A
BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER, YOU ... MY OWN CHARITY. YOU'LL NEVER KNOW HOW
DIFFICULT IT WAS TO MAKE THE DECISION TO GIVE YOU UP ... A DECISION I
SHOULD HAVE MADE BEFORE YOU WERE BORN! INSTEAD, I PRACTICALLY FORCED
GABE TO MARRY ME ... AND SUCCEEDED ONLY IN BOTCHING UP ALL OF OUR LIVES
....

There was more; her mother's letter had been full of recriminations,
confession, outpourings of love and some irrational reasoning ... But,
Dear God ... why did she run? Why did she cop- out ... when I need her
the most? Oh, God ... I want my mom! I've never felt so alone ... and
lost! What can I do? I know for sure .... that I can't stay at home!
Ugh! The way dad ... er Gabe ... looks at me ... I just know he wants me
... lusts after me ... that's what it really is! It's pure animal lust!

In her own mind, she was sure that she had done the wisest thing in
getting out of the house where she would be safe, because almost
anywhere else -- the street especially -- would make it impossible for
her mother's husband to get at her. She was not sure just how she would
make sure it was safe to return; it would be safer, she had decided,
while Donnie was there. Perhaps, she would telephone, disguising her
voice and pretending that she was a girl friend of her brother's. If
Donnie came on the wire, she would explain it to him ... but if Gabe
answered, she'd hang up.

She had walked, disconsolately, along the shopping mall, looking into
store windows, wasting time that only seemed to drag itself, limpingly,
along and finally buying and drinking a Coke for its nutritional, sugary
lift. She had made the Coke last a long time as she had sipped at it,
slowly, and observed the many shoppers, mentally cataloging their
various and eccentric ways. Hers was a good eye for character and for
action that revealed that character, her interest in and training in
drama standing her in good stead, as she played this little game by
herself.

Later, as she tired, she found a comfortable seat near the central
fountain and watched its changing patterns. It was a restful release
from her own emotional anguish, and she lost herself, momentarily, in
the cooling display of the shimmering columns of water.

The adolescent voice interrupted her enjoyment. She glanced up at the
speaker and recognized him as one of Donnie's acquaintances.

"So, Charity ... you split from school and went truant ...?"

She answered too quickly, "I-It's the first time ... really .... I just
couldn't s-stand to go to school, today ..."

"That's all right. I'm not a hookey fuzz!" he grinned. "I was just
kidding ..."

She heaved a deep sigh. "I wish I could see him ..." Then, she went on,
"What did you say your name was ...?"

"I didn't ... but it's Ray ... Ray Donahue!"

He leaned back watching her, narrowly, a half-grin still plastered on
his face. It was going to be something else, he told himself, when he
laid it on her. Christ! I'll bet she can't get into the sack fast enough
when I'm through with her!

"I'm glad to know you, Ray," Charity said, turning back to watch the
water. "I just love to watch ..."

Ray cut in, fast, "You're going to get to know me real well!"

Turning to face him, quizzically, puzzled at his statement, she said,
"Oh ... how come ...?" She was completely innocent of his intentions.

He lowered his voice but said with firm steeliness, "You and I are going
to have a little party!"

"Wh-What do you mean ...?"

"A little sex party ... you're going to crawl into the sack with me ...
for some fucking!"

Charity jumped to her feet, instantly, ready for flight. "You're
d-disgusting!" she spat. "I'll do n-no such thing!"

Desperately, she looked around, trying to decide which way to go, run,
if necessary, to escape his blatantly open proposition. Oh, dear God ...
he's revolting! If I have to I'll run to the nearest store ... and call
for the police!

He reached for her wrist and jerked her back down beside him, his grin
still in evidence. "Don't try to run!" he ground out. "Stick around and
listen to the reasons why you're going to do what I say!"

Eyes blazing, she said, "Why? Wh-Why should I-I ...?"

"To stay out of Juvie! You ever been there ... it's just like a jail ...
you know?"

Curious passersby eyed them, but Ray kept his voice low so that words
could not reach them, as he held her tight, the pressure on her wrist
painfully firm. "... And, don't make a bad scene! Just listen!" he
finished.

"You're hurting my wrist! Let me go ... p-please ...!"

Ray relaxed his steel-fingered grip on her wrist, slightly, saying, "I
don't want to hurt you! Just stay put and listen to what I've got to
say! Then, you can make up your mind what you want to do!"

It was completely unreal to her. She was sitting near the middle of the
beautiful downtown shopping mall, near the fountain, in the midst of a
sunshiny afternoon with hundreds of people walking about, shopping and
chatting ... and she was being held, against her will, to listen to the
vile mouthings of this gangly youth, Ray Donahue ... a supposed friend
of her brother's.

It couldn't happen! It just could not be!

As he relaxed his grip, she sat forward, poised for flight, like a game
bird. All right, she would listen ... for a while. She was curious, now,
to know what it was all about.

Picking up his remark concerning Juvenile Hall, she asked, "Wh-What are
you s-saying about Juvie? I-I've never done a- anything b-bad to be sent
there!" Unconsciously, she also kept her voice low, not wanting anyone
in the passing crowd to hear the crazy conversation in progress.

"All right," he said, leering at her, "I'm going to lay it on you! Now,
listen close! Donnie's been laying you ... and I know it ..."

"Don't try to lie! I know it for a fact!" he snapped. "Now .... our
hung-up society doesn't like that sort of thing ... and one word from me
... and they'd be coming to take you away from that lewd and unsavory
environment ... and you know where they'd put you ....? In Juvie!"

Unbidden tears began to flow unchecked. "N-No ... no ... oh, my God ...
n-no!" she sobbed, her heart breaking once again with the realization
that, somehow, she had been betrayed, yet another time by someone she
loved dearly. "I-It's impossible! Donnie w- wouldn't do that ...!"

"What?" Ray shot back. "Lay you?"

"N-No ... t-tell anybody ... about it ...?" she murmured.

"Then ... he did! You just admitted it, yourself!" he pursued,
relentlessly.

Suddenly, she realized his entrapment of her. She had been so confused,
her thinking twisted and her emotions so turned inside out that she had
fallen, innocently, into his snare.

"N-No ... that's ..." she stopped, aghast, her mind a turmoil. Dear God!
What could she do?

"It's no good, Baby Doll! I've got you right where I want you!" he
rasped. "Now, by God ... we'll play by my rules! You know what I want
... don't you? ... And, if I don't get it I drop a few hints to the
fuzz!"

All of her resources of resistance seemed to drop away from her. She
couldn't fight back, any more. There seemed to be nothing but the bleak
prospect of doing as he demanded. Her body slumped into a pose of abject
defeat.

Then, as if to clinch his argument, Ray added, "... Of course, they'll
pick Don up, too ... and it's bound to get into the papers!"

"All right ... you want to try? You want to get up and split, right now
... and see what happens? If you do ... go ahead! ... But, you'd be in
what they call protective custody, tomorrow! They'll take you out of
that nasty, immoral home ... and lock you up in Juvie! Public morals
have to be defended!" He piled words on her, snowing her under the
deluge of lies and half-truths.

Charity was silent for long moments; finally, she said, "... And, if I
d-do what you s-say ... y-you won't b-bother me again ... and y-you
won't tell ...?"

Ray's eyes lit up. He had won! Christ! It was like taking candy away
from a baby! Easy, man ... easy as pie!

"Whatever's fair ... if that's the way you want it!" he chuckled.

Her voice was full, flat, "Y-You don't g-give me much choice ...."

"We're going to split, now!" he directed. "We're going to walk down to
my van ... and get into it! Man! You and me are going to have a real
ball ... with some real nice goodies!"

He rose to his feet, reached for her hand and raised her to her feet,
slipping an arm, casually, around her small waist. He went on, "Like,
why don't you dry up your tears ... and smile at the nice, square people
... you look like you're going to your own execution!"

Charity remembered little of the ride to Ray's house; her mind was in a
complete whirl, her thoughts entering and leaving in rapid order, her
confusion complete, her emotions turned topsy-turvy with her new
concern, not only for herself but for Donnie as well. She did know that
there was some truth in what Ray had told her; however, she was not sure
what the attitude of the law was toward incest. She just knew that it
was wrong ... and that somehow she and Donnie had been exposed. Dear
God! Perhaps he had only guessed ... or jumped to a conclusion, a
conclusion that had been correct; then he had merely played a bluff.
God! What if he's bluffing!

It was a ray of hope. She turned to him and said, "Ray ... y- you don't
h-have any proof ... just hearsay ..."

He grinned over at her, confidently, eyes hooded, "You want to bet on
that ...? Or do you want me to name the time and place?"

"N-No ..."

She dropped back into her inner absorption, the maelstrom of her
thoughts giving her little comfort, and she didn't notice when they
passed Donnie's motorbike parked at the curb a block away from Ray's
house.

Donnie, sitting on the curb, watched Donahue's van pass with Charity in
the passenger's seat. He whistled through his teeth. Christ! I didn't
think he could do it! I wonder what he laid on her?

Morosely, he sat waiting for another five minutes before mounting the
cycle and riding the short distance to Ray's parents' home. The house
was a California ranch style, set back from the street, low and long,
sandwiched between two Victorian houses. Obviously, one of the old homes
had been torn down to be replaced with the modern house.

Parking the van in the triple garage, Ray ushered Charity into the
affluence of his parents' home. The quality and obvious expense was
reflected in the furniture and accessories.

A few moments before, when she had dismounted from Ray's van, she had
had a terrific impulse to break away from him and run ... run for her
life, but his firm grip on her arm had dissuaded her. Now, as she looked
around at the costly surroundings, seeing at the same time, the gangly,
long-haired youth in his sub-culture garb of jeans, boots, fringed
leather jacket and beads, she couldn't help but wonder what it was, in
him, that made him want to reject it all.

Charity sank down onto a soft couch and ran her fingers over the richly
sculptured material. "I-It's beautiful!" she said. "Such a l-lovely home
..."

The sneer on his face surprised her, as he said with derision, "It's
only money, Doll ... but, like my old man doesn't know what to do with
it!"

"Wh-What do you mean ...?&quot;

His voice was harsh. &quot;Things!&quot; he spat. &quot;He's just like
all the rest! He doesn't give a fuck about people!&quot;

&quot;A-and you ... you care about p-people ...? she trembled. &quot;...
But I-I get the idea y-you're trying t-to use me ... like I was ... a
thing ...!&quot;

The door chimes sounded. He left her to go to the door, grunting,
&quot;I wonder who in hell this could be ...?&quot; His grin was barely
concealed from her; he knew it would be Don Scott, her ever- loving
brother.

&quot;Don!&quot; he exclaimed in mock surprise. &quot;Come in ... join
the party!&quot;

She sprang to her feet, shock and surprise on her mobile face.
&quot;Donnie!&quot;

&quot;Yeah ... it's me ...&quot; He sat down, sprawling carelessly.

She stood there, in utter confusion, looking from one to the other of
them, stupidly, feeling as though she should say something to explain
why she was there. Her open, innate honesty compelled her to say, dully,
&quot;He kn-knows ...&quot;

&quot;K-knows what?&quot;

&quot;A-About us?&quot; she answered, miserably.

&quot;Like crap!&quot; Donnie spat, looking hard and mean at Ray, who
stood watching them, a slight sneer on his face. &quot;You want to
split, Char? If you do ... we'll do it now!&quot;

Charity heard his offer to take her away, but the fear of exposure, the
possibility of publicity -- friends and classmates at school learning of
their depravity, the scandal of it rocking the town, the attendant
gossip, the stares, the jibes and the innuendoes -- plus the fact that
both she and Donnie would be placed in Juvenile Hall, if a word of it
got out to people in authority, such as the district attorney, made her
hesitate. He doesn't understand! Dear God! I don't want anything like
that t-to happen to m-me ... and most of all I-I don't want anything to
happen to Donnie! What can I do ...?

&quot;I-I can't, Donnie ... I just c-can't! Don't you understand?&quot;
she sobbed, hot tears beginning to glisten in her eyes.

&quot;Okay, Char ... you know what you want to do,&quot; he told her,
but Donnie knew that in letting her follow the course she had chosen, he
had, almost literally, given her to Ray Donahue. His eyes bored into
Ray's, as he swiveled to look at the tall boy. He went on, &quot;I don't
know what you laid on her Ray ... but you must have come on pretty
strong! What's next in this farce of yours?&quot;

&quot;Well ... for starters ... how about some drinks? My old man's got
one of the best stocked bars in town!&quot;

&quot;I'll make a special one for you,&quot; Ray leered. &quot;I know
you'll like it ... after you've tried it!&quot;

&quot;Is it a-alcoholic ...?&quot;

&quot;Yeah ... it's got a little ... but it's more like a punch,&quot;
he assured, as he went to mix for them.

He brought drinks; Scotch for him and Don ... and a slightly
green-tinted milky looking drink for Charity. Ray raised his glass and
said, mockingly, &quot;Well, since we're playing square ... drinking,
instead of toking up ... here's looking up yours!&quot;

Charity sipped. It tasted good, but she didn't know what it was. She was
going to ask, decided against it and drank from the glass. The liquid
slid down her throat, easily, and was not at all unpleasant. There was a
slight warmth from the alcohol, but not enough to alarm her. She had
seen too much of her father's drunkenness. A long time ago, she had
decided that indulgence in drinking would not be for her. This drink was
different. It didn't seem to be at all strong.

Flopping carelessly into a soft chair and flinging his boots onto the
surface of the beautifully inlaid coffee table, Ray watched her,
narrowly, as he sucked on his own drink. If I can get another one of
those down her ... she'll be fucking like a mink! Christ! I can hardly
wait! ... But, I'll have to play it cool ... cool as hell!

He flipped through some of the long-play records stacked on top of the
stereo unit at his elbow, selected a driving, hard rock, put it on the
spindle and started the machine. The driving twang of the guitars and
the high, nasal vocal thundered into the room through a special hi-fi
speaker system.

Charity listened and sipped at her drink; before she knew it she had
finished it. In a few moments, Ray thrust another at her, a big friendly
grin on his face.

&quot;No, thank you,&quot; she said, politely.

&quot;We're having another round, too ... you might as well drink up
...&quot; He left the pernod on the coffee table before her.

A few moments later, she reached for the drink, automatically. She hated
to let it go to waste. Sipping steadily she was more than halfway
through the second drink when it hit her. There was a warmth in her
belly, seeming to exude to all parts of her body ... and there was a
certain headiness, an almost giddy feeling. More important, though, she
felt glowing warmth in her loins, and she shifted her position. Strange!
She hadn't felt it before! God! What was that stuff? Is it s-some kind
of ... sex drug ... something that would make people do it?

Abruptly, she set the glass down, a wild, cornered look appearing in her
eyes. &quot;Ugh!&quot; she said aloud.

&quot;I-It tastes good ... but I think there m-must be something in it
... something strong that sneaks up on you!&quot; She felt a sudden
weakness in her knees as she tried to stand up.

Instantly, the tall youth was beside her, steadying her; he leered down
at her, as he slipped a sinewy arm around her waist. &quot;That was
pernod you had ... it's almost as good a turn on as pot!&quot; he
explained.

&quot;I-I don't understand ...?&quot;

&quot;I mean you're just about ready to fuck! That stuff works ...
almost every time!&quot; he gloated.

&quot;Oh, n-no ...&quot; she said weakly. Somewhere in that morass of
confused thinking that had been hers for some time, now, she had thought
that if she must go through with the sex thing with this vile, young
monster, perhaps, she could do it with no involvement. Now, even that
dim hope was smashed. She had been tricked into drinking something that
was an aphrodisiac; pernod, he had called it. Dear God! Now, I won't be
able to help myself ... at a-all! I-I'll be completely at his mercy!

Don Scott had been pretty sure that it was absinthe pernod that Ray had
given his sister. He knew very little about it himself, except the fact
that it had been outlawed almost every place in the world. &quot;Where'd
your old man get that stuff, Ray?&quot;

&quot;Connections, man! You got money ... you can get anything!&quot;
Ray bragged.

Vaguely, then, for the first time, Donnie began to see his friend in a
different light, and he began to wonder: Damn! He's playing both sides
... making out like he's one of us ... talking about going on the
street, but hanging on to what he's got going for him here! Christ! I'll
bet when the time comes to split he'll run like hell the other way!

Don watched with more than a little interest, the scene that was
transpiring before his very eyes, for now, quite obviously, his sister
was reacting to the effects of the drink. Ray's arm around her waist
shifted now to turn her to face him, his other arm going around her,
drawing her up tight to him, the obvious bulge of the erection under his
jeans pressing into her belly, and unbidden, Don realized that his own
penis lurched with desire.

As Ray gathered her into his arms, plastering her loins to his, and she
became aware of the warmth and the bulk of his hardness against her, she
stiffened as though she had been drenched in ice-cold water; her body
arched back away from him, her hands pushing, futilely, against his
chest in an attempt to escape his embrace.

He could have said something different; there was even the possibility
that he could have taken her away, but something perverse in him wanted
to see his sister trapped, seduced. His own desire for her was too
great. Christ! He had to have her, too!

"Don't make such a big scene out of it, Doll! It's going to happen ...
no matter what ... so stop fighting it!" Ray leered down into her face,
still holding her tight to him.

Suddenly, then, she realized there was nothing she could do. Donnie had
refused to help her; he was willing, almost, it seemed to her, to stand
by and watch her humiliation and debasement. She stopped struggling and
slumped against him, helplessly. Dear God! What have I done ...? Her
mouth fell open in disbelief that her brother could do this dreadful
thing to her.

Then, she felt Ray's searching hands upon her body, moving from her
waist to cup and massage the rounded firmness of her buttocks through
her light skirt. Her face flamed with shame and embarrassment as his
long, lean hands moved intimately over her tense, fear-stricken body.
Desperately, she tried once again, "P- Please ... let m-me go ..."

"Not a chance! You're going to get fucked, now ... whether you want to
or not! I'm so goddamned hot I can't wait to get between those hot
looking legs of yours!" he grunted, leaning down to capture her mouth
with his own.

Again, she struggled in his arms, trying to free herself, but she was
helpless against his greater strength, and his lips closed on hers,
engulfing her soft, moist lips completely, his tongue lashing between
her lips and against her teeth lustingly. He held her tight against him
with one hand while the other searched for the zipper of her skirt,
found it, unfastened and zipped it down, giving the waistband a tug and
moving away from her, momentarily, to allow her skirt to fall to the
floor around her ankles. Quickly, then, he clasped her close, his mouth
welded to hers, his hot hands digging into the rounded hemispheres of
her firm young buttocks that were covered, now, only by a wisp of white
nylon panty. Tighter yet, he forced his pelvis against her, his height
placing the throbbing bulge of his erection hard and unresisting against
the softness of her belly. She could feel it outlined there long and
hard ... and, to her complete surprise an uncontrollable tremor of
desire rippled through her.

My God! Something ... something entirely unwanted was happening inside
her. She was actually feeling ungovernable little sensations of sexual
excitement that seemed to alternate with those other feelings of shame
and repulsion at his demanding hands and mouth upon her. Momentarily,
again, she tried to resist him, attempting to pull away, but as she
opened her mouth to shout out negative words, to scream, if necessary,
his tongue pillaged her mouth, slipping past the barrier of her teeth to
joust with her mobile lingual member. Galvanic sensations shot through
her, and she relaxed into his arms, her mouth beginning to suck, her own
tongue searching for more of the essence of his lustful mouth.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ...!" she moaned, as he drew her unresisting body down
to the soft cushions of the davenport, a sinewy hand covering a full,
up-tilted breast, instantly, to massage and tantalize.

Ray broke the contact of their kiss, and as he pushed her back on the
cushions, smiled down at her, a smile of pure lust, his hands never
leaving her for a moment. His voice was a dry croak. "Can't help it ...
can you?"

Dumbly, she looked up at him, lost in the morass of sensations that
surged in her.

He went on, "Damn ... you're really hot ... hot enough to fuck, right
now!" Leaning back, he fumbled with his belt to loosen it.

Watching them from across the room, Don cut in, "Hell ... why don't you
take her in the bedroom? This is no place for this scene, man!"

The gangly youth looked up at the girl's brother; he had almost
forgotten his presence. "Yeah ... okay ..." Swiftly, he stood to his
feet, leaned down and picked Charity up, lightly; with seemingly
effortless ease he carried her down the hallway to the master bedroom.
Don had anticipated his choice and went into the room ahead of them;
quickly, he stripped the coverlet and blankets from the bed, tossing
them, carelessly, to a small slipper chair.

For an instant, the auburn-haired girl stiffened in his arms,
resistingly, but as she saw that Don was now helping by preparing the
bed for her further debasement, she collapsed into herself, an inkling
of understanding coming to her. Dear God! Donnie wants me .... t-too!
Her thought was confirmed by the tremendous bulge she saw in her
brother's jeans. N-No ... no! Not both of them at the same time!
OOOoooh, My God!

The insane idea ricocheted inside her skull, the monstrous thought
almost more than she could bear. It's impossible! I-I can't ... not with
my own brother ... a-again! I v-vowed it would n-never ... never
h-happen ... again!

... But, Ray's hands, his tongue, exploring her mouth ... and the pernod
had set her whole being aflame with sensual desire. As she lay in the
middle of the big bed, now, where the tall youth had place her, she
looked up at the two boy-men, dumbly, her eyes eloquently pleading for
mercy; then, uncontrollably and in spite of her revulsion, she raised
her knees, and began to rub her thighs together. It was a completely
unconscious action.

Now, Ray eased his lanky frame down onto the bed, reached down and
pulled off his boots, dropping them, heavily, to the floor. &gt;From the
corner of his eye, he saw the slight movement of her thighs and the
slightly undulating roll of her hips.

One of his long-fingered hands reached out to her leg and moved down the
soft, warmth of her inner thigh ... moved slowly and inexorably along
the sculpted column toward the white crotch band of her nylon panties
that barely covered her pussy area. She felt it, intensely,
anticipatingly, but there was still in her some vestige of resistance.
With a moan, she straightened out her legs flat on the bed, trapping his
hand between her tightly tensed thighs and the sheet-covered mattress.

Her brother looked over hard and deadly at the other youth, "Not one
word, Ray ... not one, because we're both going to be in on the act,
now! I'm going to fuck her, too!"

It hadn't worked the way she thought it would. Everything had taken a
different turn. Now, it was out in the open; Donnie had just said it ...
said that he wanted to ... Dear God! What can I do ...?

The feeling of overwhelming aloneness and helplessness was strong in
her. She had been drugged ... and her brother had been a party to it.
She was desolate ... and betrayed, again!

Then, Ray hissed down at her, "And no more of that stupid yelling!
Christ ... we don't want the neighbors thinking the wrong things!"

Turning away, he stood up, finished unbuckling his belt, unbuttoned his
jeans and slipped them from his long legs. His shirt and undershirt
followed; then, with tantalizing slowness he slipped his jockey shorts
over his hips to release his lancing hardness to her surprised gaze.

Charity didn't want to look at it; she tried to tear her eyes away from
it, but the length of his hardened member, standing out from his hairy
loins held a perverse fascination for her ... and yet there was also
revulsion for the things she knew now that the male organ was capable of
doing. She had forgotten, temporarily, the exploding orgasm she had
experienced with Donnie. Oh, My Dear God ... he's so huge! Sudden fear
quivered in her. God! She had to get out of there! Run! Get out of that
beautiful, soft bed ... and run ... far away!

... But, she was paralyzed, as Ray leaned over her, stretched out his
hand and began to slither it up and down the smooth flesh of one
trembling leg, moving it ever upward, until his hand brushed teasingly
over her nylon-encased pubic hair, allowing the contact to linger,
perceptibly, the light, tantalizing pressure against the vibrant flesh
of her delicate, inflamed vagina. She closed her eyes to blot out the
obscene vision of him, attempting with all her strength to get herself
under control.

Hands began to unbutton her blouse, a different pair of hands. Donnie!
Donnie was undressing her, now. Opening her tightly closed eyes, she
looked up with disbelief into his smiling ones, noting at the same time
that he had removed some of his clothing, also. He was naked from the
waist up.

"Oh, D-Donnie ... please ... d-don't ... I she mumbled.

For answer, he flipped open her blouse, lifted her upper body,
brusquely, and stripped the garment from her; then, he unhooked her bra,
deftly removing it with swift motions and flung it toward the
modernistic double dresser along the wall where it joined her blouse.
Lowering her back to the bed, a low moan of desire coming from his
lust-distorted mouth, he sprawled beside her, avid hands grasping for
the mounding firmness of her breasts, his mouth finding and engulfing a
spiky, berry-like nipple to suck and nibble.

His hands on her tender flesh were, at once, cruel and inciting, as he
clawed at them, feeling the silky smoothness of their firm, young
womanliness.

"God ..." he said, mouthing his words around the puckering areola of her
hardened nipple, "You're something else, Char!"

She should have felt revulsion for what he was doing; her sense of
decency, of right and wrong was not completely destroyed yet. She knew
it was wrong ... she had vowed that it would never happen, again, but
the slashing sensuousness that arced in her as he massaged her breasts
and sucked on a nipple was too much for her. There was nothing she could
do to stop him; the fiery rapture being generated down between her
thighs, aided by the pernod caused her to undulate her breasts up to
him, offering them to her own brother, while below, her hips began to
move in tiny salacious circles. Her desire was, for the moment, in
supreme command.

Then, while her brother was sending ecstatic thrills stampeding through
her, as he shifted his voracious mouth to the other breast, below, she
felt Ray grasp the waistband of her panties, and with one slow teasing
movement roll them down over her hips and trembling legs. They were her
last protection; now, they were gone, and she lay naked and ashamed on
the bed, her lovely nudity even more of a sexual goad to the two boys.

Now, she felt Ray ease himself down on the bed and stretch out beside
her, his warm, sinewy body pressing up close to her. He was lying on his
side, she knew, because the hardness of his erect maleness pressed into
the white smoothness of her thigh. Dear God! It's so hot ... and hard!

When Ray lay down beside her, his hands still roaming over her body, at
will, Donnie left her breasts, momentarily, and Ray sought her luscious
mouth with his own. He took her in his arms and kissed her, deeply,
probing' with his tongue, until she responded, opening her mouth to him,
her own oral member intertwining with his. His rampant, hardened cock
was trapped between them; suddenly, she felt it jerk against her thigh,
and there was a sensation of wetness there. It must be a tiny drop of
semen from his excitement, she thought hazily. At that instant, she had
to repress a sudden desire to reach down between them to grasp it ... to
feel its virile hardness. N-No ... no ... I-I can't! I can't give in to
them completely! Oh God, How did I-I get into this?

The bed sagged as her brother stretched out on the other side of her.
She knew by the contact of his body as he pressed up against her that
he, too, was now completely naked. She could feel, distinctly, the
outline of his rock-hard penis made on her own warm thigh.

Charity just couldn't believe it; this couldn't be happening to her.
What was left of her reasoning mind tried, halfheartedly, to sort out
her confused thoughts. She could find no solution. She was hopelessly
trapped, and there seemed to be no way out for her. Unwittingly, her own
fears ... and the pernod had brought her to this complete impasse.

Anxious, now, his passion growing each moment, Ray raised his head,
surrendering her lips and leaned up on an elbow. Almost on the instant,
Donnie's lips were on hers replacing Ray in the deep, passionate kiss.
Their tongues jousted, momentarily, before his lingual member snaked
deeper into her mouth.

Her whole body was a mass of libidinous sensation as she lay on her back
between the two naked, virile boy-men their stiff cocks on either side
pressed up hard against the warm, smooth, milk-white flesh of her
shapely thighs. Again, Ray's hands roamed at will over her lush, young
womanliness, seeking all the female contours of her curvaceous body, and
against her will, she found herself, perversely, enjoying having this
strange boy's hands move so provocatively on her now defenseless
nakedness.

The sudden, moist warmth of Ray's mouth on her sensate breasts made her
start with surprise. As she jerked away, turning her head to break the
kiss, a small groan escaped her, "Oh ... OOooh!" Then, her brother was
whispering in her ear, reassuring her, "It's all right, Char ...
everything's going to be okay! I'm here with you ... and I won't let
anything bad happen to you ..."

He recaptured her mouth, effectively stopping her outcry, his tongue
probing her oral cavern, hungrily, and she could feel the moist warmth
of Ray's lips on her sensitive breasts, the nipples spiking out hard
under his stroking hand, their areolas puckering pinkly as he sucked
them up into his mouth, alternately.

Arcingly, the high-voltage passion ignited in her by Ray's hands and
mouth, and the deepness of Don's searching kiss was being built up in
her, unbearably. The searching mouth on the sensate mounds of her white,
velvety breasts was driving her wild with insane desire. It seemed that
there was no resisting the slashing, electric fire that had begun to run
rampant and unchecked through her belly and aroused loins.

With a conscious act of will, she pressed her thighs tightly together
again in an effort to deny the heightening desire that seared her
genitals. Somehow, she must stop this insane charade .... but if she
could not stop it, at least, there was no reason why she should enjoy
it. After all, she was there, against her will. She had been frightened
into coming here with Ray, in the first place ... and now, there were
two boys -- one of them her own brother -- who wanted and desired her
nakedness.

Then, Ray's mouth left her throbbing breasts and his body slid
downwards, his mouth trailing across the smooth, flat plane of her
belly, stopping momentarily to pay court to her navel.

It was only a few moments, but the passage of time was distorted as she
felt him move lower, ever lower, until at last, his searching mouth was
just above the soft, auburn curls of her sparse young pubic mound and
his strong, lean hands were reaching down to spread her thighs firmly.
There was no doubt in her mind, then, as to what he intended to do to
her. He was going to use his mouth on her to lick and suck her into
complete submission to his will. Oh, God! How can I-I fight them? I
d-don't want it t-to happen!

Charity groaned with uncontrolled anguish as her brother, Don, squeezed
her breasts, teasing the nipples of them between his thumb and
forefinger, then pulling his head away to break the open- mouthed kiss,
only to move his head, instantly, to the up-tilted hardness of her pink,
berry-like nipples. He took one between his lips, moving it rapidly in
and out while at the same time maintaining a strong sucking pressure on
it. She gasped. It was a breathtaking sensation! Involuntarily, she
reached down to cup the other breast up to him, inviting him to treat it
the same way. She would never know why she did it ... but suddenly, it
was there in her. It was almost as if she were, symbolically, offering
her body to them, now. Then, there was the sudden realization that she
could not keep herself uninvolved. She was in it, now! She was reacting
... almost enjoying ... even cherishing having these two potent boys
doing wild, insane things to her. It was a definite surprise to her. How
could she have changed? She hadn't wanted it .... this way!

Below, Ray had parted her legs, spreading them widely, his head
following, his mouth and teeth moving, now, on the soft, white flesh of
her smoothly-rounded inner thighs. He nipped at her warm, pliant skin
with his teeth, gently, his mouth like a searing torch on her as his
lips followed, kissing her warmly and moistly; finally, his searching
lips found the coraline division of her vagina, the thin bearded slit
moist and pulsating from the exudation of her womb. Deliberately, his
tongue moved there, up and down the narrow crevice, boring searchingly,
finally into the portal of her vagina. Under the blinding impact of the
slashing sensations generated in her, her hips began to move, grinding
in tiny circles under her, undulantly, her mounting desire, now, almost
completely out of control. Now, I'm getting all warm ... and moist down
there ... a-and it's starting t-to feel like ... l- like I-I want them
to do it! She was responding to them, against her will. My God! She just
couldn't let it go on and on. They couldn't subdue her like this ...
humiliate her ... debase her with their blatant sexuality. For all of
her right desires, there was the counter balancing effect of her own
unbidden sexual sensations. They were too much for her; she couldn't
fight it any longer. OOoooh, oh! They're driving me crazy! Their mouths
... their hands on me ... i-it's more than I can s-stand!

Below, Ray shifted his lanky body to kneel between her widespread legs.
Placing his thumbs on either side of the sparsely hairfringed cunt, he
parted the fleshy lips of her vagina to expose its moist, pink channel.
He grunted as he noted the tight passage was clear of hymenal barrier.

"Christ ... that's a tight little cunt you got, baby ... but I see
you're not cherry!"

Vaguely, she was aware that he had spoken to her. She looked at him over
her brother's head and shoulders and asked, uncomprehendingly, "Wh-What
... I-I don't know what you m-mean?"

"Like you're not virgin!"

"Oh," she mumbled back, "Donnie ... s-stretched m-me ..."

"That figures!" Ray choked, looking down at the exposed cusp of her
thighs, again, where he saw secretions of clear, viscous fluids forming
in droplets to run part way down the inner side of her thigh, down
toward the tiny puckered mouth of her anus. He dropped his head down
between her legs, his mouth descending on that spot to blaze a passage
his hard, throbbing cock would soon follow.

His long tongue, agile and moist, found her sensate cuntal passage and
plunged into it to move in tiny circles inside, against the sensitive
inner lining, eliciting a moaning mewl of anguished pleasure from her
lips. At the same time, he felt her loins thrusting up toward him, and
her auburn-tressed head began to move helplessly from side to side in
uncontrollable response to him.

Ray shoved his face tight down into her seething loins, his tongue
flicking and curling into her open, waiting pussy, the urgency of her
upthrusting hips signaling clearly to him her needful passion. God damn!
What a little mink! She's almost ready to fuck, right now!

Inhaling deeply of the pungent, heady perfume of her womanliness, he
lost himself in savoring her vaginal exudation, its warm female taste
inciting his massive cock to more than steely readiness. Deeper, ever
deeper, he plunged his circling tongue into her; her moans of ecstatic
pleasure coming from deep in her throat, unceasingly, and her loins
began to move in steady, countering motions to the rhythm of his
tantalizing tongue deep in the hot slick depths of her vaginal passage.

Relentlessly, his tongue bored into her, and he paused only momentarily
to nip at the tender flanges of her tiny, petal-like cuntal lips with
his teeth, returning again to his tongue-thrusting titillation to bring
her ever closer to the peak of desire. Under his constant mouth caress,
she became a blazing inferno of passion.

Charity couldn't stand it any longer. My God! It had gone on so long ...
both of them doing vile, wicked ... but insanely pleasurable things to
her. Suddenly, she knew. She had to have them both! It had to go on to
completion, now! She wanted the strange boy, Ray ... to fuck her ... and
she wanted her brother, Donnie ... to fuck her ... again!

With a strong heaving motion, she arched her hips off the bed, shoving
her searing loins hard up into Ray's face and groaned aloud, "Oh!
OOOoooh! Yes! Yesssssss! Do it! Do it t-to m-me!"

Ray withdrew his tantalizing tongue, raised his head and looked up at
her, leeringly, through lust-filled eyes. "Do what to you ... Doll?" he
asked. "Christ! You know the words, don't you? Say it!"

She frowned her resentment. Remembering the lewd words Donnie had forced
her to say, she seethed, inwardly. Wasn't it enough that she had been
forced to come here, against her will, drugged with an aphrodisiac ...
and her secret loins licked and sucked into submission ... without
having to beg to be further humiliated and debased? She didn't want to
be a supplicant ... but there was her burning desire; she couldn't deny
it. She had to have a long, hard cock in her, now! Oh, God ... I-I'll go
crazy ... if they don't d- do s-something!

There was nothing she could do ... except ask ... beg them to fuck her,
now! All right! I-I'll do it! I-I have to do it ... or .... or ...

Even as she said it, she didn't know how she could take them both God!
What am I-I s-saying? Th-That's impossible!

"You surprised me, Doll ... you do know how to ask!" Ray chortled. "...
And, you're going to get it ... but good! We'll fuck you so Goddamned
hard you won't be able to stand up!"

Ray wanted to be absolutely sure she was ready to explode before he
rammed his big prick in her. He could wait a little while longer. His
face disappeared into the soft furrow between her legs again, his
industrious tongue going unerringly to her throbbing clitoris in its
fleshy folds at the apex of her softly hair-ringed pussy.

Maddeningly, he licked, and she felt herself slipping into a crescendo
of intense pleasure, as lightning sensations flashed arcingly in her to
build into mammoth, surging, electric waves of ecstatic desire.

Unconsciously, uncontrollably but instinctively, her hips moved in time
to the insanely licking tongue of the tall youth, while at the same
time, she thrust her mounding breasts upward into her brother's face,
wanting them both, wanting more and more of everything sensual and
sexual, and she knew, somehow, that it was only a short way to the peak,
to the time when she would explode in a frantic frenzy of orgasm ...
cumming, cumming ... and cumming, again ... and again!

Except when they had pressed them hard into her thighs, one on either
side, neither of the two boys had touched her with their deliciously
hardened pricks, but in her imagination she could see them ... feel them
as they worked in her. She wanted it to be happening ... now! Oh, how
she wanted it! God! Oh, God! Why are th-they teasing m-me? I want their
big, hard c-cocks in me ... f- fucking me!

Then, Donnie raised himself up, kneeling above her, his rampant hardness
lancing out at an acute angle upward, its menacing length almost
frightening to her. He was saying words, now, but they were not directed
at her. "God damn it, Ray ... I can't wait any longer! Why don't we turn
her over ... you take her from the back ... and she can suck me off at
the same time!"

Kneeling up and leaving her seething genitals, momentarily, Ray agreed,
"Whatever's fair, man! I'm with you on that!"

As she lay there on the bed, prone, between the two kneeling boys,
Charity had a fleeting thought: It was as though she were a sacrificial
offering ... and the two boys were pagan high priests who offered up her
body on the altar bed of the Great God Sex. A second thought followed:
Dear God! I-I hadn't thought of that! That's the way ... I can t-take
both of them ... a-at the same time!

Then, in her memory, she saw, again, the perverted way in which that
strange man had fucked her mother's mouth, and she was aghast, rejecting
the idea almost as soon as it had formed in her befogged brain. N-No!
God! I-I couldn't!

She felt herself being shifted, her body being moved to positions to
suit them as though she were a marionette on the end of a
puppet-master's string. They turned her over and placed her on her
knees, her buttocks in the air only inches, she realized, dimly,
separating her widespread cunt from the massive, rock-hard cock that
stemmed from Ray's hairy loins. How obscene! It's like animals!

Charity's next sensation brought a delicious sigh to her lips, as she
felt Ray slide his hands, appreciatively over the rounded, soft
protuberances of her naked buttocks; then his finger was teasing against
her vaginal furrow, and she felt him insert one, two ... and finally
three fingers in the liquid depths between her open legs, moving them in
and out slowly and gently. She knew his purpose, after a moment; he was
stretching her. He had realized that she would have been too small and
tight for him, and she was thankful that he had taken care to insure her
pleasure. At that moment, she loved him ... loved him almost as much as
her brother. Oh! It felt so good!

Meanwhile, Don, who had been kneeling at her side, knee-walked himself
around until he was in front of her and sat back on his heels. His
hardened member, long and pulsing, pointed straight up at her face. She,
impulsively, turned her face away from it. There seemed to be something
wicked and evil in seeing his cock so close up. Dear God! It's so big!
How could I-I ever get it in m- my mouth?

"What's the matter, Char?" her brother asked, reaching both hands out to
her cheeks and bringing her face around to him, again.

She looked at him through agonized eyes. "I-I just c-can't do it ...
D-Donnie ... I keep r-remembering that awful man ... a-and what h-he did
t-to mom ..." she groaned brokenly.

"What's to worry, Sis ... that guy was some kind of sadist! I'll teach
you how to do it right," he assured her.

Ray, on his knees behind her kneeling body, moved in closer, now, and
withdrew his fingers from her moistly ready pussy, his hands going,
then, to her white, smoothly rounded buttocks to caress and massage
them.

Then, as he allowed one hand to continue its wandering search of her
exquisitely formed legs, his other hand reached down to massage and
fondle his hardened, massive cock. His long-fingered hand worked the
foreskin back and forth over the bulbous, blood- inflated head, and a
few drops of the thick, colorless lubricant spread over the shiny,
reddish surface of his throbbing cock-head.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he took his hand away, and his prick stood
out rigid and throbbing, his heartbeat evident in its pulsing readiness.
His avid eyes were glued to her upturned and undulant pussy, the
flowered-open, moist cunt attracting him like a beacon, guiding him to
the tiny bearded lips, and he could see that she was more than ready to
receive his aching cock into her clasping cuntal passage.

Placing both hands, now on her waist where it curved in, swelling down
to her hips and feeling the warm, softness of her curling young pubic
hair, he pulled her back toward him, until the pulsating head of his
steel-hardened penis was brushing, teasingly, up against the warm, moist
furrow of her pussy.

The sudden, warm contact brought a moan of need to her lips, "OOoooh,
Ray ... go ahead and do it ... put it in ... a-and fuck m- me ...!"

Her use of the obscene word was like a spur to him. He ground out at
her, "Reach back ... and guide it in!"

Hesitatingly, she put a tiny, trembling hand back under and between her
thighs to reach out for the massive, blood-inflated cock that waited
there to enter her now greedily throbbing depths, but her hand stopped
short. She couldn't bring herself to touch it.

"Put it in ... Goddamn it! Put your hand around my cock and put it in
that tight, little cunt of yours!" he commanded.

"I-It's so b-big ..." she whimpered.

Suddenly, viciously, he slapped her flat-handed across the white,
rounded buttocks, his hand leaving a pink imprint on her velvety flesh.
The sudden pain of his blow galvanized her into instant action, as she
yelped in pain and surprise. Her hand went out, grasped the tumescent,
throbbing member waiting there and guided it to the trembling opening of
her vagina. Simultaneously, he pulled back on her hips, forcefully, the
heart-shaped head of his long, hard cock sliding with a tight resistance
into her moistly hot passage, the pressure he exerted as he pulled her
toward him impaling her and the elastic, coral flesh of her cuntal
channel stretched painfully to receive him, even though he had used
three of his fingers to prepare her earlier. Strange! She realized, as
his cock sunk into her from behind, the slap with his hand hadn't really
hurt her; there seemed to be something of pleasure in it, too, and she
knew that it was so. It was a pleasure-pain that bordered on ecstasy.

He stopped short, not allowing full penetration, yet. Only his giant,
blood-inflated head was in her, teasing and stretching the tender, moist
flesh of her young, seething pussy. As he held himself, immobile, he
felt her move back toward him, as her cunt tried hungrily to absorb more
of his massive hardness deeper into the searingly sensitive channel.

Ray squeezed and massaged at her hips and buttocks, running his hands
over her naked backside incessantly; then he began to shove his
tumescent prick into her throbbing pussy with slow and inexorable
pressure, deeper and deeper into her, feeling the ring of muscle at the
opening contract around the massive girth of his hardened member, and it
seemed to him, almost as though her tight, moist vagina was sucking him
into her, setting off tantalizing sparks of further stimulation in his
sensitive, blood-heated member.

With a final, forceful flexing motion of his hips he drove the last few
inches of his aching cock deep into her quivering depths, his loins
smacking up tight against and flattening her upturned ass cheeks.

The force of his plunge into her brought an involuntary gasp from
Charity's lips. Her lips rounded as his hairy loins smacked into her
full, rounded buttocks, and his long, hard cock went all the way in to
the very limit, the monstrous head flicking past her womb to lodge
solidly against the back wall of her vaginal sheath.

She was jolted forward as Ray rammed his hard maleness into her, and her
slightly opened lips brushed lightly against the velvet tip of her
brother's rampant prick. She hadn't realized that it would be that soft,
but she recoiled from the contact.

"Go ahead, Sis ... just open your mouth, now ... and let it slip right
in!" Donnie said. He moved himself closer to her, allowing the tip of
his shiny, blood-inflated cock to rest, solidly, against her soft, pink
lips.

Now, there was no further backing away, and as the warmth of his erect
member was transmitted to her lips, she felt a thrill that she couldn't
identify.

Donnie went on, "Cover your teeth with your lips ... and open your
mouth, Charity! You're going to learn how to suck cock, now!" His voice
was brittle commanding.

Under the impetus of that unidentified thrill which she now recognized
as anticipation, she remembered that she had almost halfway been tempted
to this very act ... when they had done it in Donnie's room. Silently,
she corrected herself. The night Donnie .... f-fucked me ... for the
first time!

Closing her eyes, she opened her lips, tentatively, and Donnie inched
himself toward her, pushing with his legs to enter the velvety head of
his aching cock into her still resisting mouth.

"Take it ... damn it!" he hissed at her. "Take it all!"

Charity ovalled her mouth more, opening her jaws, slightly, and heeding
his instructions, she folded her lips over her teeth, knowing,
instinctively, that she must, so that she wouldn't hurt him. Then,
slowly, as he pressed, firmly, she was forced to part her lips even
more, and the great head of his rampant prick was imbedded in the moist
warmth of her oral cavern.

Donnie exulted within himself. She's taking it! The sensations on the
head of his cock, as she used her tongue, now, to lick at it,
swirlingly, were almost making him go out of his mind.

The huge presence in her mouth was like nothing she had ever
experienced. There was a moment of hesitation ... of doubt, but once it
was there, locked immovably in her warm mouth, she flicked out her
tongue and moved it around the blood-engorged crown, savoring the
pungent flavor of it and finding it exciting ... something she had not
expected. After a few moments, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked on it,
experimentally; as she did it, she felt the throbbing tremor of
excitement her action was causing in Donnie.

Behind her, his big cock buried to the hilt in the moist confines of her
softly clasping cunt, the other boy, without warning suddenly withdrew
it several inches, until just the tip of it remained in her,
momentarily, and then rammed forward with all his young animal strength,
his lust-filled member tunneling back into her with the force of an
express train. As his hairy loins smacked into her, resoundingly, her
body jerked, rocking forward on her knees and elbows, and instantly, her
whole mouth was filled with her brother's lengthy, pulsating cock.

With Donnie's hardened, blood-inflated prick now imbedded deep in her
throat, she gagged, slightly, and closed her eyes, to help her control
the momentary feeling, using her tongue along the under side of the
massive shaft in an attempt to dislodge it, but the tantalizing, sucking
action on the sensitive cock-head only incited Donnie to force it
further up into her mouth.

Rocking forward on his knees, behind her, Ray flexed his expanding prick
deep in her moist, cuntal depths and was rewarded to feel her own
countering contractions, the walls of her vaginal passage clasping him
in a sheath of insanely sensate flesh; meanwhile, his hands continued to
move on her, unceasingly, caressing and massaging her quivering thighs
and buttocks, his fingers going down underneath her kneeling body along
her flat belly, as he reached around her upturned behind with his long
arms, and his long, middle finger went into the hair-lined furrow to
find her throbbingly sensitive clitoris. It was erectly alert and
pulsating under his finger as he stroked the miniature phallus,
teasingly.

Within her, every fiber of Charity's being was responding to the two
boys, the electric sexual desires building massive charges of heat
lightning in her loins that threatened to arc completely out of control,
to consume her ... to goad her into complete submission to her burning
desires.

Suddenly, she couldn't stand it any longer; the prolonged, teasing
playfulness had to come to an end. She had to move on to the next part
of the sexual cycle ... the active moving phase. She knew it was time;
her whole being demanded Ray's long, hard rod of flesh to begin surging
in and out of her palpitating, now unbearably hungry pussy. She wanted
it, wantonly and recklessly, spearing up inside her completely.

When she had first felt his brother's friend's blood-engorged prick
entering her, spreading and stretching her cuntal passage, pausing for a
moment then sliding into her to its full length, she could have fainted
from the pure joy of it, the wild sensations of his flexing shaft
eliciting instinctive and involuntary movements of her own, her vagina
seeming to act on its own, to suck him up, absorb him, full length, into
her expectant, quivering belly. She moved back against him, rocking on
her knees, her buttocks moving in tiny circles, signaling her need to
him.

Ray knew then that she was ready for him, ready to take his
lust-inflated cock, all of it, poundingly, into her seething,
desire-ridden cunt to rock her with sexual power, a power that would
bring her to the heights of ecstasy ... and he was ready, too, the ache
in his throbbingly swollen cock almost too much for him to bear waiting
any longer.

Moving then, slowly, with long, smooth strokes, kneeling behind her,
strong hands clasping her hips, his own loins flexing fluidly, he began
to piston his aching cock in and out of her moist, clasping cuntal
passage. He didn't grind or ram; rather, he established a steady
stroking motion into her hot clasping passage that did not, as yet, hit
all the way up to the bottom of her womb. He didn't want to rush
himself, or hurry her too much; there was still plenty of time, so he
stroked her, smoothly and slowly, waiting for her response. He knew it
would come, shortly ... and when it did, he would give her everything he
had with piledriver force! Wait! There's still time!

Now, his hand cupped her full-rounded buttocks, squeezing and massaging,
then drifted down the widespread cleft, his finger searching there for
the secret, puckered, little nether mouth that nestled between the
working, trembling mounds.

The tall youth's finger probed at the tiny, brown ring then circled it,
teasingly, before he slipped it down further to moisten it in the
viscous fluids of her cuntal opening.

Then, with his long, lubricated middle finger, he probed at the warm,
spongy opening between her full, flexing ass cheeks. He found it and
pressed into it, slowly and gently, to the first knuckle. Her body
jerked once, jockeying forward away from the unnatural presence in her
backside, then, unexplainably, she screwed her trembling loins back on
his finger until it slipped through the resisting ring of muscle and it
was absorbed, fully, his palm flat against the wildly flexing cheeks of
her white, perfectly sculpted buttocks.

"Oh! OOOOooooh!" she groaned. "That h-hurts ...!"

Ray gave a short, raucous laugh. "You mean it hurts good ... don't you?"
he asked.

In a sudden flash of insight, she realized that he was right. "Y-Yes ...
oh, yeeeeeesssss! It does! I-It h-hurts ... good!" she murmured.

As she jerked away from Ray's finger in her backside, she had,
instinctively, lifted her head back and away from Donnie's prick that
was still imbedded deeply in her throat. His massive cock pulled,
moistly, from her mouth as she moaned with the first pain of it, but
Donnie would have none of that. He reached out for her head and guided
her once more to it, saying, gutturally, "Come on, Sis ... stay with
it!" Brutally, he shoved his sensate cock back into her mouth. "Keep
sucking!" he ordered.

She could do nothing else! Her ovalled lips were filled, again, his
hardened flesh deep in her throat. Desperately, she swirled her warmly
moist tongue around and around it, then hollowed her cheeks as she
sucked on it.

"Now ... start to move your head back and forth on it!" her brother
commanded.

Instantly, she obeyed him, moving her head and, consequently, her whole
torso back and forth, the length of him sliding, easily, in and out of
her mouth, rhythmically.

As she moved, she counterpointed Ray's pistoning cock that moved
smoothly in her clasping cuntal passage from behind, his member
throbbingly aware of her movements against him.

Charity's breath began to come more deeply and her eyes were glazing as
the sensations in her belly, in the depths of her vagina became a
raging, unquenchable fire, except in rapturous orgasm ... and as she
moved between the two boys, she suddenly realized that she was filled,
completely filled ... in all her bodily openings. She had never known
that it was possible.

Now! Behind her, Ray couldn't wait any longer; she was responding. She
was fucking back, her buttocks squirming back against his hairy loins,
the moving sheath of her warm, moist pussy inciting him, bringing him to
the very brink of his own rapture. He had to give her all he had, now!
With a deep-throated groan, he flicked his hips forward and began to
plunge his steel-hard rod of flesh deep into her pulsing, now needful
cunt.

With pile-driving force, he rammed into her, driving his ever- expanding
young cock deep into the searing, coraline depths of her, his pubic hair
smacking into his own hand between them where his long finger drubbed up
into the soft sponginess of her anus. Under the double ravishment of her
loins, she groaned in pleasure-pain, the exquisite sensations now
beginning to scale the full heights of passion.

As he soared into her, Ray could feel the bulging presence of his finger
through the thin separating tissue of flesh between her back passage and
her vaginal vault. It contacted his lust-inflated cock-head on each
in-out movement. It was a series of wild, unbelievable sensations that
incited him to ever more powerful thrustings into the tight moistness of
her seething young pussy.

Ray knew that the fiery dam in his balls would have to give way, soon.
He could feel his orgasm nearing, the ache in his sensate cock becoming
almost unbearable. Quickly, he pulled his finger from her anal passage;
there was a slight pop and a faint hiss as it slipped out of the
puckered ring of flesh; then looking down, he watched with fascination
as the hardened rod of his prick rode in and out, poundingly, glistening
ivory-white with viscous moisture.

Grasping her hips with both hands, he began jackhammering it into her.
It was like a monstrous pole, pulsing and alive, sliding in and out of
the smooth wet depths of her hotly clenching cunt, his hairy loins
smacking, now, up against the round protuberances of her full buttocks
and into the hairless valley between them.

In front of her, her brother knelt, his lust-inflated cock deep in his
sister's throat. He looked down at his own hardness, the saliva bathed
rod of flesh glistening and disappearing to the root right into her tiny
ovaled mouth, her lips creeping up over him to devour it completely,
then as she moved her head back, several inches of his long youthful
prick was revealed, moistly white. As he watched, he could see tiny
fleshy portions of her lips pulled out on withdrawal, then stuffed back
in again when she absorbed it deep into her throat, her lips sliding,
moistly and easily along his hard shaft of flesh.

Charity had at first felt revulsion when her brother had forced her to
take his cock into her mouth. She had gagged and felt sick, but with the
building rapture in her loins, the tension of impending orgasm that she
knew must come soon, she began to experience a definite erotic, sexy
sensation, centering around her mouth and throat as his hard young cock
moved in and out of her oral cavern with each rhythmic motion of her own
head.

Suddenly, she surrendered to the salacious sensations of the double
entry into her body: her brother's friend's thundering cock behind her
soaring into her hot, moist cunt ... and Don's, hard and long, slipping
easily, now, into her warm receptive mouth. She reached out a hand to
between her brother's thighs and fondled the tight, wrinkled sac
containing his sperm-swollen testicles. To her, it was an unexplainable
paradox. That which she had reviled, earlier, now had become something
she could accept ... even like. Now, it was a desire. She wanted to do
it!

Somewhat dazedly, she dimly wondered whether the two potent boys would
tear her apart, as Ray, behind her on his knees thrust ever more
powerfully into her ... and as Don, in front began to move in
counterpoint to her moving mouth on his hardened cock; however, there
was, among them, a concert of rhythm, as smoothly, powerfully, she was
fucked, without mercy in both orifices of her sexually responsive body,
the rapture building in her every moment that the exquisite double
ravishment continued.

Two of them ... my brother and his friend ... and both at the same time!
I can't believe it!

Now, to Charity, the mounting, sensuous ecstasy at the very core of her
being began to explode inside her, deep in her belly. It was her coming
peak, her orgasmic release. It won't be long, now! Soon! Soon! ... And
I'll cum ... and cum!

Then, she was aware that Ray, pounding into her from behind was almost
ready to cum, spewingly, into her moist, hungry depths, the force and
rapidity of his powerful thrusts into her buffeting her like an
out-of-control pile driver.

It hadn't occurred to Charity that her brother would cum right into her
mouth. She sensed his urgency, the head of his cock seeming to grow ever
larger as he came nearer and nearer the time when he would cum ... but
had she thought of it, in advance, the very idea of his viscous semen
jetting into her throat would have revulsed her. Instinctively, she
began to move faster on him, sliding her mouth rapidly up and down the
moist rod of flesh; then, resting on both elbows she reached out to
grasp his muscular, working thighs.

Don felt his ejaculation cumming, deep up in his belly, and he reached
out to take his sister's face in both hands to hold her while he flexed
his hips to drive his great, hard cock deeper up into her warm mouth ...
until he came. His white, hot semen jetted from the tip of his expanding
cock, showering the interior of her mouth with cascades of viscous sperm
that forced her to swallow, again and again to clear it from her throat
as he slammed his spewing prick hard up into her mouth, almost brutally
... and he held himself there, immobile, as he shot his hot cum deep
into her working throat.

"Damn! I'm cummmming ... Sis!" he gasped between clenched teeth.

His sister was helpless, now, in the grip of her own near orgasm. It was
coming to her, soaringly, the rapture of the moment blocking out all
else ... even any revulsion she might have felt as she voraciously
swallowed the sweet pungent-like semen filling her mouth.

She ground her buttocks back against the other young boys, squirming and
rotating her quivering hips expectantly, waiting impatiently, now, for
the time bomb of her sensuality to explode inside her. Now, faster and
faster, harder and longer, Ray slaved, his unsatiated cock pistoning in
and out of her moist, young sheath of pussy flesh without let-up or
mercy, until with a panting groan his viscid cum hosed through him,
searingly, to splash far up in the depths of her vaginal vault, his
wildly jerking cock pumping crazily as he grasped a full, rounded ass
cheek in each hand and squeezed the white, plaint flesh of her in
doughlike rolls through his long, lean fingers.

"Christ!" he grunted. "Here it is ... Doll!"

Then ... it was there for her, too! She clutched her brother to her and
rammed her buttocks back hard against his friend when she felt her own
orgasm breaking forth in her. She would have screamed out with the
pleasure of it, wantonly, but for the massive presence of her brother's
cock still buried deep in her straining throat. Don, on his part,
pressed his still spewing organ even more deeply into her mouth, hurting
her lips as he pressured his loins into her face, and his deliciously
pungent semen jetted into her hungrily gulping mouth.

All three of them came together, within seconds of each other. The two
boys clutched greedily at her, rubbing, smoothing and caressing her
naked curves and breasts with their hands, their wildly pumping cocks
boring relentlessly into her, until finally, the last of their hot,
white sperm was drained from them ... and they released her, the heights
of their orgasms beginning to subside, their hard, erect cocks pulsing
less and less and returning to a more flaccid state. Then, at almost the
same time, the two boys, completely satiated, pulled away from her. Ray
heaved himself back, his prick pulling moistly out of her semen- filled
vagina to collapse heavily on the edge of the big bed. Don, collapsed
crosswise of the bed with an enormous sigh of pleasure and murmured,
"That's the most ... Sis! Damn! I'm drained ... I feel like I'm sucked
inside out!"

As they pulled away from her, Charity slid down to lie on her stomach.
She was too overcome by the powerful release to speak. She could only
moan, "Oh! OOOoooh! OooooOOOhH!"

Ray reached out after a few moments and patted her, affectionately, on
her upturned bottom. "You were just great, Charity ... after we have
another little drink ... and rest up a little ... we ought to go at it,
again ..."

Her reaction was vehement unexpected. "No! Th-There w-won't be any more!
Y-You got what you wanted ... now I want to leave!" she grated out at
him.

"Make her stay, Don!" Ray said, turning to face her brother.

"She said she wanted to leave ..." Don told him, "and that's the way it
is!" Then, to her, "Get dressed, Sis!"

Chapter 10

Charity had gathered up her panties and other clothing and fled to the
bathroom where she locked herself in to dress and put herself in order
again.

In spite of the fact that she had, indeed, had a tremendous orgasm with
the two boys, she had regained her straight-thinking processes, again,
soon after the orgiastic, three-way, sexual debauchment ... and she knew
that she was right in refusing to continue. She was glad that her
brother, Don, had agreed to take her away. In truth, she really didn't
know what she would have done ... if he had insisted, also, that she
stay. His agreement had restored a measure of her faith in him, for
there had been several instances in the last few days when she had been
sure that he had betrayed her. At this point, he was all she had of her
family. With a shudder she remembered why she had left the house that
afternoon; it had been to escape possible molestation by the man she now
knew to be her stepfather. She would have to tell Don .... on the way
back to that dismal house.

* * *

Putting her mouth close to Don's ear, she shouted above the roar of the
engine, "Don ... I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere ....? Besides, I-I
want to talk to you!"

"Sure!" he yelled back. "I'll pull into the first place I see."

Over a pair of tacos apiece, Charity, somewhat haltingly, confided in
her brother, telling him of her very real fears about their father.

Don recognized himself in her description ... and it was his turn to
flush, pinkly. Hell! The only difference between me and the old man is
... I've already had her ... twice! What he said to his sister was:
"That's possible ... any man would flip for you ... including him!"

"Will you ... t-take care of m-me ... Don ... and make sure it n-never
happens ...?" she asked.

"Like how ...?"

"Don't ever l-let him be alone w-with me!" she answered, with
conviction.
"All right, Char ..." he agreed. "...But, after all he is your father
... and ..."

They rode along in silence, each absorbed in thoughts of their own. It
was Charity who spoke first. "Don ...?" she asked. "How are we going to
get into the house ... w-without h-him knowing it ....?"

"We'll go in through the back!"

Don turned off the avenue onto their street. Just before reaching the
ramshackle house they had called home for so long, he silenced the
engine and coasted into the driveway. Quickly, they dismounted, as Don
parked the motor bike, and hurried around to the rear of the old house.
Going in ahead of his sister, Don gingerly opened the kitchen door that
gave onto the back porch. From there, he could see nor hear nothing. He
signaled Charity to stay on the back porch.

Walking through the kitchen and dining room into the living room, he
stopped short when he saw his father stretched out on the lumpy sofa. He
seemed to be asleep, but as Don came a little closer, he realized the
man was dead drunk.

"It's all right, Char!" he called out. "He's laid out drunk .... and
sleeping it off!"

Charity came to stand beside her brother. She looked down at him where
he lay like a lump of dough, slack-faced and unconscious. Her compassion
for him came to the fore, even in the face of her strong revulsion.

"Oh, Donnie ... he should be put to bed ..."

"Hell ... let him sleep it off here ... where he passed out!"

"No ... that sofa's uncomfortable ... and he should be covered up ... so
..."

"That's something else, Sis! One minute you're afraid of him .... scared
to death he's going to try something with you ... and the next, you're
the all-American mother!" he grunted in disgust.

"He's still your father!"

Don glanced at her, puzzled by her strange statement. He's still YOUR
father! Damn it! What does she mean?

It was but a heart's beat ... and Charity realized what she had said.
Quickly, she added, "... And mine, too ..."

"Yeah ... well, like maybe you're right ... I'll help you put him to
bed, then ..."

Together, they half carried, half walked Gabe Scott into his bedroom.
Don stripped off the drunken man's trousers and shirt; then, clad only
in his underwear, they tucked him, snugly, into the double bed.

That task finished, Don picked up his father's garments to drape them
across the back of the vanity chair. An envelope fluttered out of the
shirt pocket, and as it lay on the floor, he recognized their mother's
handwriting.

Gabe Scott's intention to remain sober had gone down the drain, as so
many things had with him, but now, lying in the bed, in his own bedroom,
he swam back to partial consciousness through the fog of alcohol in his
brain. Don and Charity were there, in the room, their voices somewhat
strident as they argued about the note. Charity! She's back!

Raising himself on a none too steady elbow, he said, "So ... you li'l
bastard bitch ... you came back?"

Charity whirled to face him, horror-stricken; then without a word, she
ran from the bedroom, through the living room, the dining room and into
her own bedroom. Crossing to the connecting door to the bathroom, she
shot the bolt, locking it, then digging the new door-locking device out
of her purse, she fitted it to her bedroom door. Not until she was
completely locked in did she remember that her brother still had the
all-revealing letter in his possession.

Dear God! I-I hope Donnie d-doesn't read i-it ... too.

Donnie had watched her as she fled, and when he heard her slide the bolt
to the bathroom door, he turned back to face his father on the bed where
he struggled with the blankets trying to sit up. He mumbled, "Where'd
she go?"

"She's gone to her room ... dad ..."

"Just le' me get my hands on her ..."

"You just cool it ... dad! Stay in bed and sleep it off!" Don's voice
had a steely quality Gabe had never heard before.

Gabe made another effort to get up off the bed, but Don pushed him
prone, again, and told him, "You better sleep it off, dad!"

Dimly, through his befogged brain, Gabe Scott knew that he was in no
condition to argue or fight. Yeah ... sleep it off ... tomorrow ... I'll
take care of both of 'em ... tomorrow. He turned away, curled himself
into a ball and growled, "Get th' hell out of here!"

Don left the bedroom, Charity's letter still in his hand. I wonder what
in hell's so important ... and so personal in this?

Closing the bedroom door, he flopped into the overstuffed chair,
considered the envelope for a moment and came to his decision. He would
read it. Charity probably wouldn't like it ... but his curiosity had
been aroused. Personal, or not ... he had to know the contents.

Removing the sheets from the envelope, he began to read. He read the
letter twice, to absorb all that was in it. He whistled between his
teeth. "Well ...!"

His reaction was not extreme. He took it in stride. Damn! I see why it's
so important to Char! She really had it laid on her .... but good! Poor
little gal! ... But, Christ! It sure changes things ... that makes me
and Char only half-brother and sister!

He thought about it for a moment: ... And, dad knows it, too! He found
the letter where Char had hidden it! Hell! No wonder she's scared!

Carrying the letter with him, he went to his own room, still thinking as
he stretched out on his bed. There's one thing, for sure! Charity can't
stay here! ... But, I don't have enough of a stake to get us out! I'll
have to do something about that, right away ... like tonight!

Glancing out the window, Don saw that the sun was almost down. I'll see
if Ray'll help me ... he's got that big .45 automatic ...

Then, he slept for an hour. He awoke refreshed and went into the kitchen
to find some food. There wasn't much to eat, but he threw together a
hasty snack and began wolfing it down.

Charity heard him rummaging in the kitchen and came out to join him. She
sat down near him, her eyes downcast.

"Y-You read mom's letter ..."

"Yeah ... I had to ... to find out why it was so damned important to you
..."

"Then ... y-you know ... a-all about mom ... a-and m-me?"

"Yeah ..." he mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I'm going to get you
out of here!"

"Don't worry, Char ..." he grinned. "I'll take care of you ....
somehow!"

Don didn't tell Charity what he planned to do. Christ! She's got enough
to worry about! Right after he finished his plate of food, he arose from
the table and told his sister, "He'll probably sleep all night ... but
stay in your room, anyway ... with the doors locked! I'm going out,
tonight ... for a while."

Charity showed her disappointment in her quick frown of disapproval and
her dull, "Oh ..."

Quickly, he added, "But, not for long ..."

"Why a-are you going ... l-leaving me a-alone ...?"

"Damn it, Char!" he snapped. "You'll be all right! I've got to find a
way to get us out of here ... for good!"

On impulse, then, he leaned down and kissed her, quickly, full on the
mouth. She was taken by surprise. She gasped, "D-Don ..."

"Now, get off my back ... and be sure to stay in your room!"

Donnie didn't really know why he had kissed her, but there was a strong
feeling in him, at that instant, that he loved his sister more than
anything else in the world.

... And, he knew, in the back of his mind, that there was a strong
element of danger in what he planned to do. He thrilled to it. There was
a challenge in the danger of it.

He left her sitting there, perplexed and puzzled and went directly to
his own room, locking the door, securely, behind him. Swiftly, he took
the snub-nosed .38 from its hiding place and slipped it into his
waistband, put on his jacket and stocking cap and left the house through
the back door.

Striding to his big motorcycle he started it and swept out of the
driveway to roar off down the street toward the avenue. Damn it! I hated
to leave her there ... but I don't know any other way to do it!

* * *

"Don ... like don't make so much noise, man! What do you want .... this
time of night?"

Looking at the tall youth, critically, Don knew, on the instant, that
Ray was stoned ... probably on pot.

"Well ... like what are you toked up on, Ray?"

Elaborately, the other invited him in and closed the door, before
answering, "I got me some hash, man ... the best!"

"And you're stoned ... all by yourself?

"Of course ... man except for little old Marcia ..."

"Marcia ... who?"

"Just little old me ... Marcy Lunceford ..."

Don was startled by her voice, but was, instantly, agape with surprise
when he turned to see her. She was completely nude as she walked from
the hallway into the living room and lowered herself to the sofa,
stretching out on it and arranging herself, provocatively, sure of her
impact on him. She went on, then, "Come on over here, lover boy ... I
want to see you close up ..."

He gulped; the memory of her that night, in her yard, came flashing back
to him. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered.

Sitting down beside her, he said, "Okay here I am, now what?"

Marcy ran a trailing hand over his thigh. She smiled a tight, coy little
smile and said, "Ray's been telling me some interesting little things
about you ..."

"That right?" he said with some nonchalance ... but his heart skipped a
beat. "Like what?" He glanced up at Ray in time to catch him trying to
signal Marcy to silence.

If she saw, she chose to ignore it, as she went on, "Oh, things ..."

Ray broke in, then, saying, "Want to join us, Don? The party's just
starting ... and I've got some more hash ... What do you say, man?"

"Maybe ... like ..." He turned back to Marcy and reached out to a
full-rounding, naked breast, his hand cupping and caressing, her pink
nipple coming to instant, alert erection. He took the berry-like bud
between his fingers and squeezed it, hard. She winced and tried to pull
away.

"Oh! That hurts!"

Leaning over, his mouth at her ear, he gritted in a low, deadly voice,
"That's just for starters! I can think of lots more .... so you want to
start telling me all those interesting little things Ray's been telling
you ... about me?!"

"N-No ...!" she said, loudly.

In a narcotic haze, Ray had sat down, heavily, into an upholstered
chair; now, he struggled to his feet and said, "What the hell's going
on?"

Don was on his feet, instantly, a red veil of anger in his snapping
eyes. He balled his fists and attacked with fury. Two hard-swinging
blows brought the gangly youth down. Ray fell, heavily, to the floor,
blood welling from nose and mouth. He was unconscious.

Don looked down on his crumpled figure, contemptuously, "Some goddamned
friend you turned out to be ... you bastard!"

Turning back to Marcy, he grunted, "You ready ... now?"

She looked at him in wide-eyed terror. "Y-You won't h-hurt me?"

"Start talking, bitch!"

She put on a fetching smile, stood to her feet and came across the
living room to him. Her arms went around him and she lifted her mouth to
him to be kissed. Damn! She was desirable ... but he would not allow
himself to be distracted ... yet.

Her naked loins undulated against the growing bulge inside his jeans,
and unconsciously, his arms went around her, his hands grasping a white,
smoothly rounded buttock in each. He dug in, hard, the satiny flesh
rolling out in ridges between his strong fingers. Her hips jerked in
toward him, and lie held her tight while she writhed up against him.

He grated in her ear, "Later with the sex ... Right now, you're telling
me all that louse told you!"

Marcy gasped, "He d-didn't tell me v-very much ..."

Suddenly, Don raised one hand and gave her a short, hard smack on her
full, rounded buttocks. "What?" he demanded.

"Y-Yes ... that's all except he w-was bragging about how he d- did it
..." she added.

"Now, listen!" Don ground out at her, holding her out at arm's length,
his hands grasping her arms above the elbows. "Don't ever tell anybody
else ... or by God, I'll ..." He didn't finish. He was not sure what he
could do ... short of beating her -- or killing her -- to keep her
quiet. It was a monstrous thought, and he recoiled from it.

"Or you'll wh-what ...?" she trembled.

Her beautiful, naked body, quivering in his grasp, suddenly inflamed and
incited him. Goddamn it! He had to have her!

"I'll show you, you bitch! I'm going to fuck you ... until you can't
walk straight!"

Marcy's eyes smoldered with instant desire. "Maybe y-you can .... and
maybe you c-can't!" she challenged.

The memory of the vicious, humiliating beating Don had suffered because
of this girl turned him mean and hard. This was his chance! He'd even
the score, once and for all.

"Don't be so damned smug about it ... because you're going to get it
rammed up into that teasing little belly of yours like you've never had
it before!"

With a sudden movement which took her completely by surprise, Don caught
her by one wrist, as he released her upper arms, and twisted her arm
behind her, turning her so that her back was toward him. Holding the
armlock, he walked her down the hall and into the master bedroom, the
same one he had been in with Charity and Ray during the afternoon.

Marcy's automatic reaction was to cry out, but as she started to scream,
Don clamped a hand over her mouth, while it was still in her throat.
"Not one sound, bitch!" he commanded.

He flung her headlong into a heap on the big bed. Instinctively, she
curled herself into a protective ball. She didn't know what to expect
from him ... a beating ... or sexual ravishment. He was acting like a
madman.

Then Don stepped back and stripped off his jacket. The butt of the .38
stuck in the waistband of his jeans attracted her attention; her eyes
rounded in real fright. He saw her reaction at the sight of the gun and
reached down to remove it. Holding it up to her he chortled, "Nice ...
huh? It's a great little equalizer! Nobody'll ever get the chance to
beat me up, again ... like Jack Roberts and his goons!"

"Y-You w-wouldn't use th-that ... would Y-You?"

"Damned right ... I'll use it ... if I have to ...!" He laid the pistol
on the double dresser.

She was cowed and he knew it. He went on, commandingly, "Turn over on
your back ... and spread those long legs of yours all the way out to the
sides of the bed!"

Marcy hesitated for a split second; then as she saw his glowering face
and heard the steely tone of his voice, she moved to obey him, turning
her body and arranging herself in the way he directed. There was
something in his forcefulness, his commanding way that ignited a spark
of desire in her. She had never before been treated in this manner;
always before, she, herself, had been the dominant one.

Now, she watched in fascination as Don unbuttoned his jeans, reached
into his fly, and unsheathed his long, tumescent cock. It stood out,
spearingly, from his loins, and she could see a few tufts of his pubic
hair at the base of it. Wrapping a fist around its girth, he pulled the
foreskin back to reveal the reddish- purple, blood-engorged head.

Suddenly, he was on the bed, still fully clothed, his boots mussing the
bedclothes, as he wedged himself between her outspread legs. He used a
hand to guide his throbbing prick into the soft, hair-fringed opening of
her cunt. Then, with a forceful thrust of his strong, young hips, he
drove the anger-hardened member deep up into her dry, and as yet,
unwanting vagina.

She gasped with the pain and surprise of his vicious, unprepared
intrusion. It felt to her as if a great, unpeeled log had been rammed
into her.

"OOOoooh! Oh, God ... D-Don! Th-That h-hurts!"

"Just lay there and take it, you bitch!" he grimaced.

Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, as she realized his
intentions. He was raping her ... punishing her for the things she had
done to him before.

Her thighs quivered and she felt them spread even more cruelly apart as
his weight bore down on her forcing his huge, hardened rod of flesh
deeper into her, searing her tender passage with hot pain. Her vaginal
canal was being punished beyond reason; the huge cock invading her felt
like hot, abrasive sandpaper as it went in ever deeper and deeper.
Finally, the spongy head of his prick flicked her cervix and moved on
past to lodge, solidly, against the farthest recess of her vaginal
vault, and the rough material of his jeans, the buttons of his fly,
smacked solidly up against the soft, resilient flesh of her sparsely
hair-ringed pussy.

Moans of pain issued from her lips. She begged, "D-Don ... p- please ...
not like th-this ..."

He didn't hear her. There was only one thing he wanted to do, now. He
was going to screw her like a fuck machine until she begged for mercy.
I'll fix her! The little bitch! She's had this coming for a long time!

Then, not caring, not waiting for her natural lubrication, he withdrew
until only the head of his lust-inflamed cock remained within her
chafed, tender passage; with insane force he rammed it home in her,
again and again, his prick a punishing cudgel in her inflamed passage.

Again, she groaned, aloud. This time, though, it was a groan of growing
arousal ... mixed with the terrible pain of his tormenting member as it
pounded in and out of her tortured cuntal canal.

Finally, tiny droplets of viscous lubricant exuded from the walls of her
vagina, and the pain became less and less, the penetration of his
ravishing prick deeper and deeper; she felt as though she were being
split asunder each time his loins, still fully clothed, slammed into her
nakedly soft genitals.

Gritting his teeth against the chafing discomfort his precipitous
entrance was causing him, also, Don fucked in and out of her, all his
pentup fury concentrated in the punishing drubbing he was giving her.
His hands gripped her body, squeezing her with sadistic force, then he
dropped his body full upon her, taking a berrylike nipple in his mouth.
He sucked on it until it grew and expanded, the areola puckering against
his lips. Animalistic growls came from deep in his throat. Suddenly, he
wanted to hurt her. He bit at the nipple and felt his teeth break the
skin. His mouth was flooded with the salty taste of her blood.

His bite hurt her. Unexplainably, though, lightning sensations slashed
at her. God! She had never had it like this! He's raping me ... b-but I
want him to ... I-I want him to fuck me u-until ... I can't stand it ...
anymore!

On every plunge Don made into her liquid, now muscularly contracting
depths, he felt himself coming closer to his own orgasm. Actually, when
he began his insane thrusting into her, he hadn't cared whether she came
to a climax or not, but now he felt her response; her loins moved up to
meet him, undulant, supple, her soft, warm cunt-mouth slithering up his
rampaging shaft, clasping him in the ancient dance of love. God damn ...
she's hot ... really fucking me back!

"Okay ... doll ... you ready?" he grunted.

Raising himself, he supported his weight on his hands and began to
stroke into her deeper and faster, every plunging motion causing his
lust-inflated cock to soar deep up into her belly, eliciting continuous
moans of passion from her lips.

"Oh ... OOh ... OOOoooh! Don! Fuck m-me ... hard ... harder!"

There was nothing in the world for her now, except the awareness of his
thundering prick as it worked smoothly in her now lust-inflamed cuntal
passage.

She heard him panting, his breath raspy in his throat, and she knew that
he was driving for his own orgasm ... that he was making no attempt to
satisfy her, too. She had a moment of panic. I won't be able t-to cum!

Reaching down between their straining bodies, he searched her seething
loins, running a finger, briefly, into the viscous moisture which
trickled in tiny droplets from the portal of her vagina where his
pistoning cock plummeted in and out of her. Then, finding the secret
back passage she had pleaded with him to violate, he worked his finger
into it to feel the spongy softness of her anal opening. He didn't work
it in gradually; he thrust, cruelly, driving it into the tight working
little mouth in one sudden plunging motion.

She screamed in masochistic agony. Her hips jerked back and down to
escape the searing pain of it. Don didn't withdraw his finger, nor did
he slacken his pace, as he realized that he had hurt her. That her
scream had done something to him, he couldn't deny ... then, incredibly,
he felt her squirm her hips, undulating them ... screwing them up on his
finger to sheathe it completely with the soft clinging sponginess of her
back passage.

Then, with both orifices of her loins filled, she began to feel it come
to her, as he pounded her, unmercifully; she knew that she would have
her release. It was all she wanted. It was everything to her, at that
moment!

... Then ... it was there! The exploding rapture wiped out everything
else. She forgot the pain the fact of her being raped .... almost. She
soared to meet it. "AAAAaaaaauuugggggghhhhh Donnnnnn! IIII'mmmmm.
cuuuuummmmmmiiinngg!"

Her body convulsed under him, her legs jerking out to either side, her
head rolling, uncontrollably. This is it! "AAAaaaauuugggghhhh!"

As she climaxed under him, Don jerked his finger from her anus. He heard
it pop and hiss, slightly, and now, supporting himself on elbows and
knees, he jackhammered his hard, still- expanding cock deep ... deeper
and faster into the hot, desperately milking depths of her satiated
cunt.

He felt the acid, searing sensation of his ejaculation begin. It hosed
from him in quick jets of white, hot, viscous sperm ... and he slammed
into her with one, final spine-jarring thrust to hold himself immobile
while the soul-satisfying sensations swept over him. Time after time,
his cock pumped, wildly, until at last he was drained and he collapsed
on top of her.

Marcy's arms went around his spent body and she hugged him close to her
entwined nakedness. She panted, "Oh ... Don ... i-it was super ...
wonderful!"

"Don't be stupid ... Marcy! I didn't mean for it to be!" he mumbled. "I
wanted to hurt you ... you know ... like punish you ...."

"You d-did ... but you made m-me cum ... too!"

"Quite a show!" It was Ray Donahue who stood at the doorway watching
them. "What's for an encore?"

Don came off the bed fast. He smelled danger, somehow. His rapidly
deflating penis pulled from Marcy's pussy with a slight pop, as he
rolled off the bed and dived for the .38 on the dresser.

Then, he saw that Ray was not a danger; the tall youth merely stood in
the door, nursing his wounded mouth and nose with a wet handkerchief.
Don looked at him, sheepishly.

"Nothing ... just jumpy ..." he said, and put the .38 in his waistband.

"That's mine!" Ray said. "Give it back to me ... and put your cock away
... it looks kind of stupid flopping out of your pants like that!"

Don looked down, saw that he was right, and stuffed his flaccid member
back into his pants. As he buttoned his fly, he said, "I'll give you
fifty bucks for it."

"I don't want to sell it ... I paid more than ..." Ray stopped short,
catching himself saying something he hadn't intended to say.

"That figures ...!" Don shot back. He reached for his wallet, took out
bills and thrust them at his erstwhile friend.

Ray wouldn't take the money from him, so Don stuffed the bills in the
tall boy's shirt pocket. "Just for the record ... Marcy saw me pay you
... Okay?"

"Hell, Don ... you don't have to make a big scene about it ... it's just
money!"

Don turned to Marcy, a hard, cynical smile on his face. "Now .... Marcy
... here's yours!" He flung a twenty-dollar bill at her. It fluttered
through the air to land on her sperm-moistened pubic mound. She looked
at it, stupidly.

"What's with you, Don? You're acting real weird, tonight!" she murmured,
taking the bill in her hand, as she set up in the big bed.

Striding to the door to leave, he added, "Don't either of you say
another word to anybody ... about me and Charity!"

He left them staring after him, dumbfounded ... nonplussed.

Chapter 11

It was a somewhat sad and lonely young man who mounted his motorbike and
rode away from the Donahue home. There had been, for him, a short-lived
thrill in his sadistic treatment of Marcy and a certain satisfaction in
his domination of the boy whom he had once considered a friend; however,
now as he pulled away from the curb, it was the complete feeling of
aloneness that swept over him. If anything were to be done, he had to do
it ... alone, and if necessary, assume the consequences himself. It was
a risky and dangerous undertaking! He had to have some money, fast!

Then, he thought about how stupid his grandstand play had been, back
there with Ray and Marcy: Fifty bucks for the gun ... and twenty ...
just to be able to tell Marcy off! Damn! That's playing it pretty
stupid!

He had to find exactly the right place ... the right setup ... one that
would enable him to make his hit, fast, and would give him a clean
getaway, afterward.

Riding up and down the streets of Redfern, he checked out several
possibilities: A couple of liquor stores and two or three all-night
service stations. It came to him, then; he was thinking of pulling a
robbery right in his own home-town where there were too many
possibilities of recognition. Why pull something else stupid, now? There
are a hell of a lot more places over in San Bernardino!

Decisively, he headed for the larger city; his plan, now, to hit a
late-closing liquor store, head toward Los Angeles, to throw off any
possible pursuit, then work his way back to Redfern on the back roads.
He reexamined his ideas and felt satisfied his plan was workable.

Idling along the streets of San Bernardino, he spotted what he was
looking for, a liquor store in a small shopping center. It was the only
business establishment still open, and there was but a single clerk on
duty within the brightly lit store with its overloaded shelves of bottle
goods.

Don parked his bike and watched the place, from a distance. There were
few customers. The parking lot was almost empty. As a patron's car
pulled away from in front of the liquor store, Don decided it was time
to make his move.

He left his bike, out of sight, some twenty-five yards from the
entrance, the motor idling; then, pulling his stocking cap down low to
his eyebrows and hastily covering his lower face with his handkerchief,
he strode to the door, his snub-nosed pistol in his hand.

The night clerk, a broad-faced man with a definite paunch was taken
completely by surprise. He sat on a stool behind the counter, his nose
buried in a paper-back book with a lurid, sexy cover.

"Put the money in a paper sack ... and be quick about it!" Don ordered.

With excruciating slowness, the clerk laid the book aside and focused on
the young gunman. He arose and moved toward the cash register, carefully
selecting a small sack from a pile of them under the counter, as Don
moved closer to watch the man's every move.

The older man glanced once toward Don, saw his obvious nervousness and
said, "Son ... you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Hell, yes!" he barked. "Don't talk! I just want the money!"

"Just as you say! You've got the hardware!" He punched the cash register
open and scooped bills into the sack, then put the sack on the counter.
"There you are ..."

Don made no move to pick it up. "All of it!" he snapped. "The big stuff
... underneath the cash box!"

Obediently, the clerk lifted out the cash box, picked up more bills and
put them in the sack. "That's it ... you've cleaned us out!" he said.

Again, the man obeyed, and when he had reached the end of the counter,
Don ordered him to lie on the floor.

"Don't move from there for ten minutes ... and you won't get hurt!" he
warned, as he turned and sprinted for his motorcycle.

Galvanizing himself into instant action, the moment Don's running figure
had cleared the door, the clerk moved fast for one of his girth. He
dived behind the counter and came up with a long- barrelled .45
revolver. Guessing that the robber was working alone, he went through
the door fast and flattened himself on the asphalt. He saw his target,
the boy was just mounting the motorcycle. The big gun, in his hand
roared out once.

Don's left leg suddenly collapsed under him, and searing pain caused him
to cry out. Then, he was on the ground. His pistol was jerked out of his
waistband, and he was conscious that someone was examining his wound.

Merciful unconsciousness blotted out the rest ... until he woke up again
in the prison ward of County Hospital. When he finally became aware of
his surroundings, where he was ... and the circumstances of his being
there, he turned his head into his pillow and wept -- not because of the
pain -- but for sheer frustration and worry about what would happen to
his sister, Charity.

Christ! I've really messed up everything!

A white, starched nurse, fat and grandmotherly, bustled in, saw that he
was awake and said, cheerily, "Time for your shot! Turn over on your
side ... please!"

Obediently, Don turned, aware now of the pain in his leg. It hurt more
than he was willing to admit. Efficiently, the nurse jabbed the needle
into his alcohol-swabbed backside. "There ... that'll be better, now!"
she clucked.

* * *

She unlocked the bathroom door and peeped in on her mother's husband,
Gabe. He was still fast asleep. Relocking the door, she drew her bath,
having decided that she would leave early for school, well before her
stepfather would be awake. She knew that she would be safe at school,
since Don would not be with her. Worry concerning him furrowed her brow.
She couldn't understand why be had not returned home.

Oh, God ... I hope he hasn't had an a-accident with his motorcycle ...
or something ...

What that vague something was, she had no idea ... but there was in her
a feeling that something quite horrible had happened to Donnie. A
feeling of frustrated helplessness swept over her. It seemed that life
was crowding her, bearing down hard ... and she didn't know what to do.
Everything seemed so complicated ... so difficult to find solutions.

She finished bathing, combed her hair, dressed carefully and applied a
small amount of makeup to her face to hide the dark circles and the
tiredness; then, she went quietly into the kitchen to get a bite of
breakfast.

There was not much left in the kitchen cupboards. No one had done any
shopping for food since their mother had left; however, she was able to
improvise a meal, after ransacking all the cupboards for what they would
yield.

She left for school, much earlier than necessary, walking slow, deep in
her worry about Don. It was her hope that she would see him during the
day ... or at least, have some word from him.

A thought that flashed through her mind and stuck there was that he had
left, too. He had spoken often of it; perhaps he had done it ... not
wanting her as a burden on him.

N-No ... please don't let it be like that! Donnie's really all I have
... now!

Her school classes were flat, dull; they held no interest for her ...
and she had had to accept an unexcused absence permit in order to attend
classes.

* * *

Her heart went wild. It must be something to do with Donnie! She hurried
across the campus to the main office, and arrived there, breathless from
the exertion.

As she approached the desk, she saw that Gabe Scott stood talking to the
vice-principal. His back was to her, and she was flooded with a strong
desire to run ... turn around and leave, right then ... anything but
face him!

They both faced her; there was nothing she could do but walk up to them,
where they stood. She was apprehensive ... real fear began to build in
her. Both men looked so grim and unsmiling. She ignored Gabe and
concentrated her attention on Mr. Graves. He gave her a quick,
reassuring smile.

"Charity ... your father has asked that you go with him to see your
brother, Donald. He ... ah ... has had an accident ... and is in the
county hospital ..."

"Your father will explain ... as you drive along ... right, Mr. Scott?"

"What ...? Oh! Yes ... of course ... I'll tell her all about it ... at
least, what I know ... so far ..." Gabe said.

"Well ... Charity, you go along with your dad, now. You're officially
excused for the rest of the day ..." Mr. Graves said. "... And, I do
hope your son is not too seriously injured ..." His serious face
reflected real concern.

The vice-principal might as well have been a judge passing sentence upon
her. There was no way she could escape having to leave, now, with
Gabriel Scott ... but it was the only way she would learn about what
happened to Don ... the only way she could get to see him.

Dimly, she was aware that Gabe was answering, then taking her by the arm
and leading her from the building across the parking lot, to his
ancient, dilapidated car.

Then, as he steered into the stream of traffic away from the high
school, she asked, "Wh-What happened to Don?"

Gabe turned bleary eyes to her, and she saw that he needed a shave, as
he grunted, "Some trigger-happy bastard shot him, last night ... and
he's accused of an armed robbery!"

"Maybe not ... but that's what the sheriff's deputy told me! He's in the
security ward at county general ..."

"I-Is he h-hurt ... bad ...?"

"They took a .45 slug out of his leg ... we'll know how bad it is when
we see him."

She lapsed into silence, hiding her worry and grief from him with a hand
to her face, only half listening to his tirade on the younger generation
... its long hair, weird clothing, mobility, drugs and lack of morals.
In a way, she was glad that his attention was not focused on her, for a
change.

At the hospital, they were told, they could see Don for only a few
minutes, one at a time. Gabe went in first. He was inside for a very few
minutes. When he came out, Charity knew that he was seething with anger.

"I can't get anything out of him!" he growled. "Anyway, he says he wants
to see you!"

Shyly, Charity went in to see him, not knowing what to say. He was
sitting up in the hospital bed, a forced grin on his face.

"Hi, Char ... like come on in ... and see the prize exhibit!"

Gabe Scott, waiting outside, lit a cigarette and reflected -- not on his
wounded son and the charge of armed robbery that was being lodged
against him, but on Charity -- on the startling thing he had been told,
just before picking her up at school.

He had parked his car, walked across the parking lot toward the school
administrative offices, when a musical female voice called out his name:
"Gabe ... wait up a second ...!"

Turning, he saw Marcy Lunceford. His first impulse was to continue
walking, but she came up beside him, smiled and asked, "What brings you
to school?"

"Damn it, Marcy ... I told you never to ...

"Yeah ... I know what you said ... but I've got something to say ... and
I'm going to say it!" she said, defiantly.

"You got nothing to say to me ... in public, Marcy!"

"Listen good, dad, I've got a debt to pay back to that no-good son of
yours!" She was venomous.

"Don ...? He's in the ..." he began.

"Yeah, Don!" she went on, not listening. "That bastard pulled one too
many dumb stunts with me! Last night, he practically raped me ... then,
h-he said I wasn't w-worth the twenty he threw at m-me ....!"

"Don ...? Y-You ...?" He was taken by surprise.

"Yeah ... but that's not the juicy part ... listen to this!" she said,
gloatingly. "He's been b-banging Charity ...!"

Gabe looked at her in consternation. Her eyes were pure venom as he
gazed at her. He knew it was the truth; her only motive was revenge.

"You m-mean ...?"

"I mean he's been ..." She looked around; there were no students within
earshot. "... Fucking her ... is that plain enough?!"

"Christ!"

"You want to hear more ... dad ...?"

"N-No!"

"Listen anyway!"

"That's enough, Marcy!" He turned away.

She persisted, following him, "Yesterday, Don and ... another boy both
had her ... at the same time!"

Gabe had had all he could stand. "You're sure as hell not one to be
telling tales ..." he glowered. "How do you know all this?"

"The other boy told me ... and last night ... Don threatened both of us.
He h-had a gun ... too!"

"Yeah ... so I hear!" he said dryly; then, "who was the other one?"

Marcy hesitated, not knowing whether to mention Ray's name or not.

"Well ...?" he prodded. "What's his name?"

"Ray ..."

"Ray ... who?"

"D-Donahue ..."

She turned and walked away from him, rapidly, as the buzzer sounded for
the beginning of the third period. He watched her go, her lithe walk
reminding him of the supple strength in her beautiful, curving torso ...
and he felt the throb in his loins, as he remembered her, the last time
... wanton, passionate, exploding under him in ecstatic orgasm.

Damn her! She's a mean one ... when she gets crossed! ... And, Don's had
her, too? Her story about Don and Charity is damned hard to believe ...
but she must have been telling the truth ... for only one reason ... to
get even with Don!

Thoughtfully, he walked toward the school office to ask for Charity's
release from school. He knew the emergency warranted it .... and after
seeing Don in the hospital, there would be the rest of the day. He knew
exactly how they would spend it. There was one thing that galled him:
Don had had her first ... But, hell ... maybe I can use that little tale
of Marcy's ... That's it! Christ .... its perfect!

Then, he was in the administrative unit asking to see Mr. Graves. Yes!
This was going to be a very interesting day ... after he had taken
Charity with him to see Don.

* * *

"I flubbed it ... trying to hit a liquor store ... the guy shot me in
the leg ... but that's not important, Char ... I was doing it, so I
could get you away from here ..."

"R-Robbery ...? W-With a g-gun ..."

"Yeah ... it seemed like the only way to get some money, fast ...."

"OOOoooh ... D-Don ..." she wailed. "I-I never w-wanted ..."

"Like ... come on, Sis ... turn off the waterworks!" he choked. The main
thing is ... it didn't work ... so you'll have to split on your own ..."

"I-I couldn't ..."

"Damn it, Char you'll have to unless you want to stay and ..." He
offered, not finishing.

"Uuuugh! N-No ..."

"Then split, now! Run like hell ... hitchhike ... try to make it to the
communes in New Mexico! San Francisco's no place to go .... stay away
from there!" he went on, rapidly.

"Y-You mean r-right ... n-now ...?"

"Hell yes! Go out that door ... and run ... otherwise ..."

"A-And leave y-you ... here ...?"

"Yes! Now, get going!" he snapped.

The determination on his face and the steeliness in his voice pushed her
over the brink of decision. She knew she would have to do it. The
alternatives, if she stayed, or hesitated were too much to contemplate.
Suddenly, impulsively she leaned over and kissed him. "A-All right,
D-Donnie ... I'll g-go!"

"Split!"

His voice was like a starter's gun that galvanized her into action. She
pushed through the door, and without a backward glance, walked rapidly
down the corridor toward the main exit. Passing Gabe where he sat
smoking, she increased her pace, knowing only that she had to gain the
exit, the first door to her escape.

"Charity!" Gabe called. "Where're you going?"

Desperately, she broke into a run. Gabe jumped to his feet and pursued,
catching her as she pushed through the big, plate glass door.

"Let m-me go!" she screamed, struggling to escape his grasp on her.

"You're not going anywhere!" he grated.

"OOOoooh!" Her wail was like that of a trapped animal.

The commotion brought several nurses to the scene.

"What seems to be wrong, sir?" he was asked. Genuine concern was
expressed.

"She's my daughter ..." he panted. "Just been in to see ... my son ...
all shot up in there! She just seemed to go to pieces completely
hysterical ..."

"Perhaps one of the doctors should see her?"

"No ... she'll probably be all right ... just needs to be calmed down
..."

"A sedative would ..."

That's it! Perfect! Christ ... it's better than I'd hoped for! She just
damned near ran out on me!

To the nurse, he said, "Yeah ... maybe you're right ... it'd calm her
down ..."

"Yes ... of course, my dear ... just bring her this way, sir .... and
I'll get one of the doctors to see her, right away!"

Then, she was half dragged into an examining room, her desperate
struggles subdued and she sobbed to be taken to her brother. "I-I've got
to s-see Donnie ... you d-don't understand! Y-You don't u-understand
...!"

A serious-faced young doctor diagnosed hysteria and ordered a sedative.
Her hips was swabbed with alcohol, the needle pricked her ... and she
desperately wanted to tell someone -anyone-what a horrible mistake they
were making, but who could she tell? Who would listen?

Dear God! There's nothing left ... now! I'm ... I'm t- trapped!

After a few minutes, she felt the euphoria of the drug working in her
veins, relaxing her ... making her drowsy ... and she didn't want that!
The feeling of absolute helplessness that swept over her left her
feeling empty and alone. There was nothing she could do. The half-sleep
drowsiness overtook her, vision and hearing were dimmed, but she was not
asleep, yet. She wouldn't allow herself to go to sleep ... not yet ...
NOT YET!

Gabe waited beside her, watching intently. There was plenty of time; he
could wait. They would let him, the concerned father, take his daughter
home, in an hour, perhaps. An hour would be a comparatively short time
... compared to the weeks, months, years he had already waited. She must
know that I found Dottie's letter .... last night when I was blotto ...
and she and Don put me to bed! It was missing from my pocket ...

Chapter 12

Through a drug-induced haze of unreality, Charity felt herself being led
to Gabe's old car, her legs obeying, automatically, but her mind was
still, dimly, uncertainly, aware that what was happening to her was
bizarre. She was, for all practical purposes, a prisoner, being led off.
to a cell from which there was no escape. The thought swept through her
that she was as much of a captive as Donnie ... and the ironic part was
she had been reduced to this position by well-meaning people, the nurses
and the doctor who had administered the potent sedative to her.

She balked at getting into the car, momentarily, but Gabe's strong hands
forced her into the seat. "We're going home, sweetheart," he said, for
the benefit of the nurse who accompanied them to the car. "Don't you
understand ...? We're going home, now .... so you can get some rest!" He
was all the concerned father, completely solicitous of her well-being.

"N-No ... no ..." she mumbled, "d-don't want t-to go h-home!"

"Everything will be all right ... soon's you're tucked into your own bed
..." It was the nurse smiling down at her with professional assurance.

The ride back to Redfern was a nightmare for her; she knew the streets
they traveled, and she was conscious of where she was each moment. Each
block of every mile was taking her closer. She had to do something. Her
first attempt to escape from Gabe had been thwarted ... but if she
jumped out of the car when he paused at a traffic light, she could make
it ... perhaps she could run into a building and hide. That's it ... I
could hide in a ladies room ... or somewhere ... Oh, God ... give me
what I need t-to do it ... now!

Watching for an opportunity, as they moved with the traffic along the
streets, Charity began thinking ahead of their route, trying to remember
certain locations. Finally, Gabe stopped at a four-way-stop
intersection. There was a large furniture store, a small market and two
service stations. If she could make it to the furniture store, she would
be safe. Gabe wouldn't dare make a public uproar. There would be a
telephone; she could call the police!

Her hand went out to the handle of the car's door, as Gabe braked to a
stop. She pulled up, hard. The door swung open, and she began to
scramble out of her seat.

Gabe saw her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her, bodily, back into the
car, slammed the door and locked it. Then, shifting gears and popping
the clutch, he punished the old car into a jackrabbit start, his strong
fingers still holding her tight.

"God damn it! Don't try any more stupid stunts like that!" he roared.

She whimpered, "P-Please ... L-let me g-go ...?"

"Not on your life! I've waited too damned long for this chance!" he
grated.

"Wh-What do you m-mean ...?"

"I'm going to lay you, Baby Doll!" he chortled. "I've wanted to fuck you
ever since you started growing those pretty little tits of yours!"

"N-NOOoo! You c-can't! Y-You're my ..."

"Father ...?" he finished. "Like hell! You know ... and I know, now ...
you and I are not related! Some other bastard knocked up your mother ...
then she made me believe I'd done it ... and tricked me into marrying
her. Dottie's letter was ..."

"Y-You stole m-my letter ...!" she accused.

"All right ... I stole it ... but it was nice to know the truth!"

"Mom d-did what she th-thought was r-right ..." she countered.

"She lied!" His eyes were furious. "... And, she's a no-good whore! She
was a whore when I married her!"

"No ... no ... NO!" she sobbed.

"... And, so are you!" he flung at her.

"OOOOoooh, God! N-No! Th-That's not t-true!"

He looked at her, his contempt plain on his face. "You wouldn't try to
deny Don's been laying you ... and yesterday, both Don and Ray Donahue
fucked you ... at the same time?"

What could she say? There was absolutely nothing she could do; it was a
fact she couldn't deny. The ugly truth had caught up with her, and her
only recourse was to womanly tears. They flowed, copiously, coursing
down her shame-inflamed cheeks, unchecked, unnoticed.

Gabe persisted. "Well ... do you deny it?"

For answer, she shook her head in negative muteness, admitting to him
the depth of her degradation.

"Little bitch!" he barked. "You no-good little bitch!"

"N-No ..." she managed through her tears.

"Committing incest with your brother ... orgies ... taking on two at a
time! Christ! How many others have you laid?"

"N-None ..." she mumbled. "Ray m-made m-me do it!"

"Rape ...?"

"No ... he th-threatened t-to tell on m-me ... a-and Don!"

Gabe's laugh was short, mirthless. "Christ! That's good. No girl can be
fucked ... unless she wants to be!"

"I understand plenty! You're no damned good ... just like your mother!"

He turned off the avenue into their shabby street. It was her last
chance, she decided. As soon as the c-car stops ... I-I'll j- jump out
and start running ... a-and screaming ...

As he guided the car into the driveway, he must have been reading her
mind, because Gabe reached over and took her wrist, again, in his strong
fingers. "Just in case you have any ideas about running out on me,
again!" he grunted.

The car was stopped, now, and he went on, "You and I are going to walk
into the house ... just like a loving father and his daughter ... and I
don't want to hear one peep out of you ... or I'll clobber you!" He
waved a threatening flat in her face. "Understand ...?"

"N-No ..." Charity murmured. She felt the pressure on her wrist
increase, painfully, and she saw the mean determination on his face.

"All right ... come along, then!" He almost pulled her from the car,
dragging her across the seat to exit from the driver's side of the car.

Keeping a tight hold on her, he walked her up the steps to the porch,
opened the front door and shoved her, quickly, inside. He locked the
door from the inside, pocketing the key.

"Now ..." he gloated. "You're safe at home with your ever- loving
father!"

Charity turned and plunged toward the door of her own room, fleeing like
a frightened gazelle. Gabe caught her in five steps and pinned her to
him, holding her from behind.

"No you don't! We're going into my bedroom ... and you know what's going
to happen, bitch ... I'm going to fuck you silly!" He panted with the
exertion of catching and holding her. She struggled, futilely, in his
bear-hug grasp.

He walked backward, half-dragging her into his bedroom, the room he and
her mom had shared ... the room where she had watched while that
stranger had debauched her mother.

"NOOOooo!" she screamed.

Gabe flung his young stepdaughter to the bed, his own slightly flabby
body following, pinning her there as one of his hands covered her mouth.
His voice was gritty, "Let out another yell like that and I'll knock
your damned head off, bitch. You're going to get fucked ... and there's
nothing you can do about it!"

Then, shifting his hand downward to hold her jaw, he dropped his mouth
to hers, capturing her lips, covering them, completely, engulfing them,
moistly, as his mobile tongue darted out to force itself between her
lips and against her teeth. She resisted his kiss, attempting to turn
her head aside, but his grip on her jaw prevented it, his fingers
pressing with cruel force into the muscles of her jaw, at the hinge
point, forcing her mouth to open to him. His tongue lashed inside to
taste and savor the delicious freshness of her youth.

Frantically, she resisted him, trying to worm her body free of his
weight on her, disgust and revulsion sweeping through her at the vile
physical contact with this man she had considered her father ... until
just three days ago, but he held her down, as his other hand began to
move, searchingly, over her curvaceous form, smoothing and kneading her
hips while his pelvis prodded into her loins. She could feel, clearly,
the bulging hugeness of his erect cock, inside his pants as it pressed
against her, hard, into the triangle of her unwanting genital mound.
There was no doubt at all, in her mind, that he truly intended to carry
out his threat.

With all her strength, she pulled her face aside, breaking the kiss and
escaping his voraciously devouring lips and struggled to free herself
from his body pinning her to the mattress. She grated out at him,
flaringly, "Damn you, Gabe! L-Let me go! I-I'll never l-let you d-do it
to m-me!"

CRACK! His open-handed slap rocked her already drug-dimmed head.

"You keep asking for it, don't you?" he grunted.

Charity moaned, a hand going to the side of her face where the ugly
imprint of his hand showed, clearly.

He went on, then. "I don't want to hurt you ... so you might as well
make up your mind to it! Either we do it my way ... or by God ... I-I'll
tie you up ... and beat you half to death, if I have to! ... And, you'll
still get fucked!"

She saw the evil determination in his eyes. He meant it! His lust for
her could lead him to do ... anything. She could be injured, seriously.
He was acting and talking like a madman. What can I do ... t-to stop
him?

"P-Please ... don't h-hurt m-me ... anymore ..." she said, pitifully.
Her decision had been made for her. His slap, the threat, the drug still
working. in her blood ... all combined to weigh down on her, to defeat
her. There was nothing she could do .... unless she wanted to risk being
mutilated!

Once again, Gabe captured her mouth, his tongue spearing into hers,
probing avidly, and he rolled from her, slightly, his hand going to a
full, round and firm, young breast, his fingers digging into her soft
flesh through her clothing.

How can I stand it ...? He's still like my father ... even if I know he
isn't! Living with him for so long ... calling him dad .... and now ...
now, everything's changed! It's all so mixed up .... a-and so a-awful!
... A-And, it's wr-wrong ... so wrong!

She struggled, again, momentarily, to escape him, trying to avoid his
pillaging tongue, to shake his questing, rapacious hands from her body.
It was futile. He held her in a viselike grip. Perhaps, if she gave in
... allowed him to ... have his way, it would be over all the sooner ...
and she could wait for an opportunity to slip out of the house and make
good her escape, once and for all. She could just lie there, not
responding and let him use her as a receptacle for his lust. After all
... I don't h-have to L-like it! He's practically raping m-me ... anyway
... f- forcing m-me ... just like R-Ray d-did!

She groaned aloud. There didn't seem to be any other way out. She was
trapped ... and all alone. Donnie was not there to take care of her.
Then, she slumped back, relaxing onto the mattress, all of her will to
fight him off gone from her. It was a groan of submissive resignation.

Gabe heard and misinterpreted her groan of defeat, from the very depths
of her tortured young soul, as one of sexual arousal. It signaled his
victory. He was hers, already.

"Don't worry, Baby Doll ... I'm going to take care of you ... good, but
I'm going to take a little time for some fun, ahead of that ... you
might as well relax and enjoy it ... because you'll be begging to be
fucked before I'm through with you!" he bragged.

He began kissing her neck, his tongue flicking out to lave her soft
skin, moistly; now, it was flicking investigatively, into her ear, its
warm moistness as the tip ran around the outer edges of her tiny earlobe
giving her uncontrollable shivers of unwanted delight.

"You're a beautiful little thing, Charity!" he hissed into her ear.
"I've always thought so ... now I'll find out how hot a piece of tail
you really are!"

She lay stretched, at full length, under him, her softly curving thighs
clenched tightly together, dreading the moment when he would want to
touch her ... down there ... in that private, secret place, between her
legs. She didn't want it to happen ... yet she knew that it would. Each
time, it had been that way: First with Don ... then Don and Ray,
together ... and now ... it was Gabe, her stepfather. She dreaded it,
feared it with every fiber of her being, for somehow, she knew it would
be the beginning of the end for her. She had always lost!

Leaning up on an elbow, his hand roamed, freely, down across her flat
belly, on down the outside of a tapered thigh to the hem of her
miniskirt, then up, again, back along the same route on the smooth, warm
flesh to the triangle at the juncture of her trembling thighs, pulling
the dress up, as his hand crept between to touch the wisp of nylon
panties that covered her, and exposing her completely to his lust-filled
gaze. His fingers probed the soft nylon that encased her loins and went
smoothly in under the leg band to touch her soft, silky pubic hair,
caressingly; then, he deftly used a finger, pushing it into the crease
at the top of her quivering vaginal furrow, sliding it in to find the
tiny bud of her clitoris.

He grinned at her salaciously as he rubbed across it, feeling it come up
hard and firm under the pad of his sensitive finger. He knew it would
send flashing sensations through her, for no woman, once she had been
brought to full arousal, would be able to resist such teasing
manipulation of her naked pussy.

Charity tried to cringe away from his questing finger. Her hips pushed
down into the mattress, and she attempted to roll away from him. It was
useless; she felt his strong hands, now, pulling and tugging at the thin
material of his sheer, white panties, the only barrier protecting her
sensitive cuntal opening from his rummaging hand.

"Oh, p-please ... don't d-do that ..." she moaned.

"It's a little late for that isn't it, baby you're already getting hot!
Christ! That little clit of yours is hard as a rock!"

Then, twisting his hand into the leg band of her wispy panties, he gave
a quick, hard yank, tearing them away from her, the thin material
ripping away, leaving her tender, young loins tremblingly naked and
completely defenseless before him.

Instinctively, she clamped her legs tight together, and a hand went down
to cover her naked shame. "Nooo! No! Please ... N-No!"

"Open those legs ... bitch!" he growled. "... Or, do you want another
one across the mouth?!"

It was useless. She couldn't unravel it ... but one thought stuck in her
mind: Gabe and Marcy Lunceford, together, in bed, or in a car just
didn't seem possible.

She was beaten down by his intimidating words, and as defeat, disgust
and fear mingled in her, she relaxed the muscles of her thighs,
slightly, allowing the white, curvingly tapered columns to part,
revealing the dividing coral slit, glisteningly moist there, an auburn
ring of sparse young pubic hair lining the soft femaleness of her.
Peeping through, the tiny petals pouted out like a small but lower
tongue, while above, the miniature phallus, her clitoral bud, throbbed
pulsingly. Her whole body quivered with fear ... and anticipation.

Then, in spite of her revulsion, it began for her, just as it had before
with her brother and his friend.

She didn't want it to happen ... but she felt his lewd finger moving on
her, tracing the thin, pink furrow of her naked and defenseless young
cunt, and she shivered with another feeling of revulsion; then, there
was a moment of strange, tortured agony, of salacious agitation, that
seared her loins with unexplainable and delicious, ecstatic need.

He insinuated the finger deeper and let it slide into the moist warmth
of her trembling vaginal passage where he rotated it around in tiny
teasing circles just inside the desire-slickened walls of her cuntal
mouth, eliciting a long, low moan from her agonized lips.

Something was happening to her, in her helplessness; that spreading
warmth in her loins, the tingling awareness, the prurient sensations
that arced in her, seeming to center where his finger probed into the
soft flesh of her cunt, signaled sexual arousal ... and pleasure she had
forbidden for herself.

His finger ... Oh, God, it's driving me crazy!

Charity moaned aloud in an agony of conflicting emotions. Her nerve
endings were shimmeringly alive to the electric sensations that surged
in her loins ... but she didn't want to respond to this father-figure
... indeed, to the man she still, unconsciously, -thought of as father.
If it had to happen -- as he said it must -- she didn't want to be a
party to it. Why, oh, why didn't he just put his thing in her ... make
his vile motions of sex and be done with it? Why did he have to keep
torturing her, making her want it .... need it? It all seemed so wrong
... so very wrong!

Tremblingly, she squirmed her buttocks down into the soft mattress,
seeking to escape the tantalizingly worming finger, her deep throated
moan changing to a helpless, mewling whimper of building pleasure as he
continued to taunt her taut, young pussy lips, thrusting his finger deep
into her several times; then, parting the softly curling pubic hair, he
made a sudden electrifying contact with the tiny, pulsing head of her
firmly erect clitoris.

She could feel the moistness all around the sensitive opening, the
exudation caused by his manipulating, tantalizing finger. It was
unwanted and forbidden sexual excitation that now filled her whole
being, and she clenched her teeth to hold back another moan of pleasure.
She wouldn't allow herself to give in to the salacious feelings building
within her defenseless, trembling loins.

This was impossible! She couldn't let it go on! Forcefully, she pushed
up against his heavy chest, writhing and kicking, under him, in an
attempt to free herself from his grip.

Gabe roared with spontaneous laughter. "Daddy ...? Daddy, hell! I'm not
your father ... and you know it! You were a little bastard ...
remember?"

Charity couldn't help it. It was definitely a slip of the tongue that
caused her to call him daddy, but his cutting words were too much for
her.

"... B-But I-I never knew h-him ... you're the only f-father I kn-know
..." she sobbed. It seemed almost an unconscious attempt to appeal to
whatever sense of decency remained in him.

"Shut up, bitch! You're still a bastard ... and a little whore, to
boot!" he growled at her.

Suddenly, she heaved her body up against him and tried to roll to her
side, away from him. His constant bombardment of her with vile names,
names that degraded and humiliated, was more than she could stand. She
had to act ... now, to put a stop to it!

The sudden force of her action caught Gabe by surprise, but he was
quick. He caught her by the shoulders and wrestled her back, again, his
weight fully on top of her, pinning her to the soft mattress beneath
him, again.

"You little bitch ... still got some fight left, eh?!" he grated,
forcing his muscular leg between her thighs, parting them, forcefully,
while his middle finger wormed into her, again, to plunder the moist
readiness of her gently quivering vagina.

"... But you can't get away," he went on, boastfully, "because I won't
let you go ... until I've fucked you till you can't walk! .... And, if
you try to call it rape ... it'll never hold water! You're legal age ...
and before I'm through you'll be begging me to fuck you, like I said ...
so relax ... and enjoy it!"

Then, as his weight bore down on her, Charity stopped struggling and
relaxed back into the bed, the completely insane horror of her helpless,
completely defenseless situation sinking into her frantic brain. There
was nothing she could do!

No matter what she did or said, she was going to be used by him. She was
trapped like a wild animal. All she could do, now, was lie there and
allow him to take any liberty his depraved mind dictated ... let his
hands roam at will over her helpless, young body, fondling, kissing,
licking ... and sucking at her tender flesh; then, when he was ready ...
he would use his monstrous cock to violate her warm, moist, unwanting
vaginal passage, pounding into her without mercy and squirting his lewd
sperm deep into her tortured loins.

Tears of humiliation flowed down her cheeks, unchecked. The revulsion
she felt for her own response to his lewdly taunting finger caught in
her throat, as she became aware that the tantalizingly cruel tracing of
his fingers in the soft, sensate flesh of her open genitals elicited
uncontrollable sensations in the aroused wetness of her cuntal channel.
His leg wedging her thighs apart made it impossible for her to avoid the
plundering contact.

His raspy voice was loud and close to her ear, his breath hot against
her. "Feels good doesn't it?" he taunted.

She twisted her head aside and her words stopped short in her throat;
she couldn't speak, as the sensual shock of his maddening fingers
massaging her throbbing clitoris and the now slightly throbbing mouth of
her pussy caused her to writhe her firm rounded young buttocks down into
the mattress to escape the frantic, nerve- shocking sensations that
slashed at her soft, vibrant cunt.

"Oh! ... Oh, OOoohh, God!" she whimpered, involuntarily, as he
continued, unceasingly, to stimulate the erect, pulsing little bud
between her thighs.

Gabe moved his paunchy body to kneel up over her, his strong hands
holding her shoulders, immobile, to the mattress, then he lowered his
head to kiss her moist, tightly clenched lips, his tongue forcing them
apart and sliding deep into her mouth, as at the same time, he slipped a
finger into her vaginal opening to massage her soft, nakedly defenseless
cunt once more.

After a few moments he told her, "I'm going to strip you bare- assed
naked, now ... and you're going to cooperate!"

Dully, Charity knew that she would. At this point, there was nothing
more she could do to help herself ... or better her situation.

She felt herself being raised up to a sitting position, felt him fumble
as he unbuttoned her blouse, heard the zipper of her skirt whisper open,
and she closed her eyes, not wanting to think about what her own
mother's husband was doing to her. Then, she was helping him, shrugging
her shoulders as her blouse came off, raising her hips for him to remove
her skirt and the remains of her soft wispy panties. Now, his busy hands
were behind her, unhooking her bra, removing it, and the cool air of the
room washed over the warm flesh of her full, firm and youthful breasts,
the erect, distended nipples pointing, spikily, into the palms of his
avid, grasping hands as he reached out to encompass them.

She gasped as his talonlike fingers enclosed the warm, vibrant flesh,
his lustful hands kneading and massaging, hotly, until he began to roll
the sensitive, pink nipples between thumb and forefinger which brought
breathy mewls of pleasure-pain from her passion-distorted mouth.

Then, his hot, wet mouth was on her, taking one of the hardened,
berrylike buds -- the areola as well -- into his oral cavity, his lips
sucking and nibbling, his tongue licking, maddeningly. Transferring his
attention to the other breast, he paid it similar homage, his long,
mobile tongue trailing, finally, through the clefted, narrow valley
between them. She tightened her stomach muscles, involuntarily, tensing
against him, as his body slithered down and down, his tongue trailing,
moistly, across the flat plane of her belly to dip, probingly, into the
shallow well of her navel, teasingly, while his hands reaching out above
him kept up their constant kneading of her tremulant breasts.

His hands began to shift, and she could feel them as they left her
full-mounded breasts to slide, sinuously, along her rib cage to her
waist, slipping on down, over the full rounded curve of her hips and the
outside of her tapering thighs to her knees. Then, back up, they crept,
along the inner surfaces of her warm, velvety thighs, moving stealthily,
spreading her legs as they went, exposing her naked, defenseless loins,
completely to his gloating gaze.

She heard his breath, raspy raw in his throat, as his hand, again worked
itself into the moist open furrow, plundering her tight, nearly virginal
cuntal lips. Charity kept her eyes closed tight as she felt him kneel up
on the bed above her nakedness ... and she could hear, clearly, the
whisper of his zipper, the rustle of male clothing as it was shed. She
knew he was undressing himself, and she dared not look.

Gabe saw her tightly closed eyes and chortled down at her, "You might as
well look, Baby Doll ... you'll have to ... sooner or later!"

There was truth in what he said. She was involved. She was responding to
him ... whether she wanted to or not. The beginnings of a soaring
ecstasy was building like an out-of-control forest fire in her belly.

Reluctantly, she unclenched her tightly closed eyes. She couldn't help
seeing it; her eyes were drawn like a magnet to his hairy loins, below
the slight paunch of his belly.

She saw his naked form, kneeling now between her widespread legs, his
face distorted with lust. Her eyes swept down to see the erect penis
that stood out below in obscene nakedness. Involuntarily, her eyes
widened in surprise, disbelieving what she saw there. Her stepfather's
hardened penis speared out into the air before him, thick and massive,
and while he grinned at her lewdly, she saw his hand move to grasp it,
caressingly, the huge, oversized cock throbbing in his hand.

Through horrified eyes she watched as he stroked, gently, back and
forth, his hand moving the full length of it, the foreskin slipping
easily over the shiny, red, blood-engorged head with each stroke. It
jerked and throbbed, obscenely, in his manipulative hand. She couldn't
help but stare at it!

"Pretty nice isn't it?" he teased.

"I-It's b-big!" she choked. "I-It's too b-big!"

In her imagination she saw it sliding, ponderously, into her, splitting
her belly wide open. "Oh, God ..."

"Those damned young kids couldn't match this!" he stated.

Dumbly. Charity continued to stare at him in miserable humiliation, the
degradation of knowing what was coming, the sight of his obscenely naked
penis, her own completely nude body spread out on the bed before him,
helpless, defenseless, filled her with unfathomable feelings of shame
... and she was utterly alone as she faced the sexual onslaught of this
lust crazed man.

Even as she stared, it was this same feeling of helplessness that
stirred further tinglings of unwanted desire. They came surging,
somehow, from her, playing like summer lightning in her loins,
discharging feelings of wanton depravity along her sensate nerve
endings; nevertheless, there was a new horror in her. It was not her
imagination working, now. She knew it for a fact. As she watched him on
his knees, above her, obscenely, stroking himself to fully erect
hardness, her eyes fixed upon his lust-filled cock in his hand, she
knew, without a doubt, that it really was too big. She looked at it,
now, with terror and fear. It would rip her apart! How can I ever take
that ... h-huge thing ... inside m-me ....?

"You'll really know you've been fucked ... when I get this into that
tight little cunt of yours!" he told her, his lewd smile of anticipation
revulsing her.

Tears brimmed her eyes, again, as she realized there was nothing she
could do to prevent him from ravishing her. She hardly noticed his
filthy language, now; he kept using the words over and over. Her mind
was too busy assessing the complete hopelessness of her position, for
there was the terrible realization that there was no escape from the
sexual plunder of her helpless, young body ... a ravishment that was
going to be carried out, no matter what she said or did. There was
nowhere to turn ... no one to turn to, now that Donnie could not be
there with her. She was completely at his mercy.

Suddenly, Gabe leaned forward and dropped the full weight of his paunchy
body upon her, forcing the breath from her lungs, momentarily, and the
long, hard thickness of his fully erect cock was pulsating against the
smooth softness of her belly. His brazenly searching hands, once more,
were squeezing and mauling the full rounded mounds of her breasts, with
savage cruelty, causing her to whimper in pain, beneath him, while his
mouth sought hers, avidly, his long, agile tongue stabbing deep into her
throat. There came, constantly, from deep in his chest, animallike
sounds of pure lust, as he massaged, deeply, with strong-fingered power
into her soft, young girl-flesh.

He raised his head, after long moments of this tantalizing torture, and
said, huskily, "God! You're a luscious piece ... but you're not hot
enough, yet! Before I'm through sucking that tight, little cunt of yours
... you'll be crawling up the walls!" he boasted.

Too late, she realized his meaning, as he moved, slithering down her
body until his mouth was just inches above the coral moistness of her
pussy. The horrible thought of what her own stepfather intended to do to
her, now, filled her with repugnance and loathing.

"P-Please ... d-don't do th-that to m-me ..." she pleaded.

Already, he had placed his hands against the satiny smooth flesh of her
inner thighs and was parting them, spreading them wide apart; her
efforts to keep him from splaying her legs open wider were futile
against his superior strength.

She whined, pitifully, in her throat, as she looked down between the
twin, mounding hemispheres of her breasts to the auburn triangle of
softly curling pubic hair where she could see his face,
passion-distorted, poised over her softly palpitating cunt.

Kneeling between his stepdaughter's legs, his hands forcing apart the
soft, young columns of her smooth, white thighs, Gabe looked down,
hungrily, at the thin, gently throbbing furrow of her tight young pussy,
ringed, sparsely, with soft, red-gold, auburn hair, the pink petals of
her tender inner lips peeping out like two tiny, pink tongues, viscous,
clear droplets of lubricating moisture clinging to them, delicately, and
he smiled lewdly, in anticipation of the sensual act he was about to
perform.

Charity lay there, terror-stricken, beneath him, her eyes pleading,
mutely, with him not to shame her any further; then, her humiliation
complete, as he ignored her, she watched, petrified, as his hands moved
up between her thighs, and she felt him place his thumbs against the
soft, trembling cunt lips to part the soft curls of her pubic hair,
drawing them apart, ever so slowly, to expose her innermost secrets to
his hungry gaze.

Then, she felt the humid warmth of his breath on her sensitive flesh,
and she moaned aloud in an agony of shame and humiliation, as still
watching, transfixed, unable to take her horrified eyes away from the
scene, she saw him lower his head to her trembling loins and felt the
moist length of his tongue slide, sinuously, into the portal of her
defenseless, quivering vagina.

Tremulously, she responded, instinctively, squirming with determination,
her hips grinding back and away from him, jerking, convulsively, in an
attempt to escape the humiliating outrage he was performing against her
defenseless, naked pussy, as a seething revulsion stirred in her for the
man she had known as father for most of her life, this man who was using
his warm tongue down between her open thighs, building an unwanted
passion within her almost to the bursting point.

"OOOOoooh ... My God! OOooh n-no! NOOooo!" she groaned.

She didn't want it, but she could no longer deny the reality of it. Her
mother's husband's tongue was there snaking up into her unreceptive, yet
rapidly surrendering cunt ... and she could not stop it.

In the midst of her shame, the unwanted sensations of forbidden pleasure
began to surge through her whole body from the insane, animalistic
stimulation of her moist, trembling cuntal slit. Desperately, she tried
to keep her mind from acknowledging the wild, sensual twinges of sexual
need that stabbed, tantalizingly, through her, searing her loins with
lightning flashes of ecstasy and subverting her body to his lewdly
salacious will. And ... in spite of all, her traitorous body demanded
its own way ... and won!

Then, she was aware that Gabe's eyes were watching her, peeping
gleefully up over the softly curling hair of her pubic triangle. His
eyes studied her facial reactions up through her breasts, while his
mouth and tongue slaved there, below, in the widespread cuntal passage
between her legs. His mouth made obscenely moist sucking sounds, and she
knew, in a sudden flash of insight, that he was watching ... and waiting
... for her final, unconditional surrender to his lewdly sucking mouth.

Gabe's eyes stared bug-like up over her genital mound, observing every
expression on her lovely, passion-contorted face, his tongue thrusting
into her, unceasingly, racing in and out of her now wild, scorchingly
hot vaginal passage. Tears rolled from her eyes, again, as he watched
with sadistic pleasure. He knew it would be soon, the space of a few
moments, until her already squirming body would lose the battle against
him ... and also with her own proud little mind.

You're going to go all the way, Baby Doll. You'll be all mine .... to do
anything with ... anything I want ...!

Suddenly, he shifted his mouth upward, his lips probing, until he found
the erectile, pulsing shaft of the miniature phallus, her throbbing
clitoris. He heard her mewling whimper of agonized ecstasy as he took
the tiny, quivering bud between his teeth, gently; then, holding it
firmly, he ran his agile tongue in tiny teasing circles around it,
finally, coming to the sensitive head where he licked and sucked without
mercy.

He was gratified, as almost instantly, he felt the involuntary
undulation of her loins grinding up at him in uncontrollable, rhythmic
counterpoint to his obscenely licking tongue. Her head began to flail,
tossing her auburn locks to and fro, the sensations generated in her
seething little pussy so intense that she could only agonize; then, he
heard new moans of pleasure, interspersed with whimpers of helplessness,
emitting from deep in her chest.

This is it!

Reaching under her, he pulled her legs up, sliding his arms under them,
until her knees were hanging up on his shoulders, her shapely calves
draping down across his back and his hands slid in under the quivering,
full-rounded orbs of her buttocks to cup them up, cruelly, tight against
his maddeningly swirling tongue.

Charity's cries of involuntary pleasure resounded in the bedroom as he
shoved his long, moist tongue deeper into the searing, coral depths of
her wildly pulsating cunt. With trembling hands, she reached downwards
to him, the desperate battle raging within herself lost, now, her
fingers entangling themselves in his hair to pull his face tighter into
her steaming loins.

He had won! She was his! Now, he was absolute master of the situation!
He could do anything he pleased with her, and he chuckled his victory
aloud. Christ! This'll be one fuck she'll remember ... all her life!

Yet, again, Charity's body had betrayed her. He was in complete command,
now, and she could only obey, instinctively, the demands her loins made
on her. Her buttocks squirmed and undulated, moving in circles upward to
his plunging lingual member as she pulled his mouth close into her.
Lightning played across her belly when she felt his warm, moist tongue
nick down, suddenly, to taunt the hidden, tiny, brown ring of her anus.

Her scream died in her throat. She wanted to scream, but it was changed,
at the last instant, into a moan of helpless, sensual pleasure as his
hot, wet tongue played at the nerve-charged opening. For him, it was
only a momentary detour from his main goal, for in the next few moments,
his long, agile tongue was laboring again in the tender flesh of her
now, more-than-ready cunt.

Then ... she cried out, the sound of her voice unnaturally loud to her,
it seemed, the moaning cry coming from deep in her tortured soul. The
decision had been made for her. She couldn't resist any longer. It was
pointless to do so ... because now, she wanted it ... needed it ... more
than anything else in the world.

"Gabe! Oh, Gabe ... OOOOOoooooh! Ooooh, God! GAAaaaabbbbe!" she groaned
in helpless ecstasy, her head flailing from side to side.

He could hardly contain his elation. In a few moments he was going to
get what he had waited so long for from his hot little stepdaughter, and
it was hard to believe that it was really happening to him. Damn! He was
going to cram his big, aching cock into her tight, young cunt ... and
fuck her silly. He could feel the load of cum building in his balls ...
and, now, he could hardly wait to get it into her cute little pussy.

Jerking his head free of her insistent, hair-entangling hands, he raised
up to look at her, leeringly.

"You're getting hot, now ... almost ready to fuck! That tight, little
cunt of yours is really asking for it!" he rasped.

Charity lay trembling, unable to move away from him; it was almost as
though she didn't want to move, now that the moment she dreaded had
arrived. Then, she knew! She had to have it ... now! Her whole world
centered in her throbbing loins.

Magnetically, her eyes were drawn to and locked on his long, massive,
pulsing cock, and she knew she had to have it inside her, racing in and
out of her hotly quivering vaginal passage. She had to have it or she
would go insane. Even the great pain she knew it would cause her, as it
forced its way into her tight little pussy -- that had only been
stretched by boys before, would be welcome. Anything would be better
than hanging on the brink in unsatisfied limbo of full arousal. God! Why
doesn't h-he just p-put it in ... a-and fuck m-me?

Gabe was over her, on his hands and knees, now. His face was contorted
into a sadistic leer, as he ordered, "All right, Charity Baby ... take
my cock in your hand and guide it into that hot, little cunt of yours!"

This was the moment!

Her brain spun, turning flip-flops inside her skull. She froze. God! She
couldn't do it!

"NOOooo! Oh, no! D-Don't make m-me do th-that ... too ...!"

"Put it in, bitch!" he snarled.

Forced, against her will, helplessly, she reached out, sliding her tiny
hand down over her flat belly, between them, her fingers reaching for
his monstrous, hardened rod of blood-engorged flesh, and her hand
stopped short, an inch away; somehow, she couldn't bring herself to this
final act of degradation. She groaned aloud, "Noo ...!"

"Do it ... bitch ... or so help me ... I'll ...!" He didn't finish. He
dropped his head, suddenly, and took a pink, spiky nipple into his mouth
... and bit down on it, salty blood flowing warmly into his mouth from
the slight wound.

"OOOOooooooh!" she wailed, her hand, instantly, reaching the final inch,
her tiny fingers encircling his thick, lust-inflated prick to feel for
the first time the true enormity of its massiveness. He had made his
point, painfully ... and she had to act.

Gabe raised his head to glare at her. "That's more like it! Now, let's
go ... all the way, Baby Doll!"

Working the bulbous head up and down between her open thighs to part the
sparsely hairlined lips of her trembling, moistly ready cunt, she placed
the tip of it at the mouth of the tiny, fearfully pulsating channel. She
reeled, almost in shock, with both fear ... and anticipation.

The shiny red cockhead paused there, at the entrance, momentarily; his
prick flexed, involuntarily and moved against her, sending shivers of
pure, delightful sensuousness through her sensate loins.

Flicking his hips forward, slightly, Gabe forced the great,
blood-engorged head into the tight, elastic sheath, stretching the
sensitive flesh, cruelly, and Charity was certain that his monstrous
cock was tearing her apart as she felt her tender cleft stretch ever
more and more with every fraction of an inch that it went into her.

The pain of it, now, was more than she could stand. She screamed for
mercy. "OOOooooh! G-God! NOOOooo! It's r-ripping me ... I-I can't stand
it! P-Pleeeeeaaasssse!"

Through pain-tortured eyes she begged him for mercy, but she saw on his
face, instead, such a mask of pure, sadistic pleasure, she knew he would
not hear her pleading.

For Gabe, it was pure delight to watch her suffer ... for a while, as
with inexorable pressure, he continued his brutal impalement of her
tortured cunt. Inch by painful inch he forced his massive cock into her
quivering vaginal vault, until, suddenly, he thrust with every erg of
his energy, shoving the rock-hard shaft spearing up into her tightly
resisting cuntal passage with the force of a rutting bull.

Words failed as a means of communication between them; there was only
the animalistic, sexual connection, and his shaft raced, thick and
lustful, with full length and breadth, into the coraline softness of her
vaginal passage, pushing waves of warm, resisting flesh before it,
searingly, until she felt his heavy, ball-filled sac smack into the open
anal crevice between her smooth, round- cheeked buttocks, upturned
nakedly, helplessly, beneath him.

He lay still, heavy and immobile, on top of her, his breath rasping in
his lungs; then, he grunted and expanded his deeply buried cock, flexing
it inside her, against the tight cuntal sheath of warm sex-flesh and
ground it into her vagina, deeper yet, for another fraction of an inch.

Charity groaned; every ridge of his great prick could be felt deep up
inside her belly. He repeated the expanding action several times, each
muscular movement eliciting moans of agony and shame, resonating from
deep in her chest.

After a few moments, surprisingly, her sensitive, stretched cuntal walls
began to adjust to the massive presence of his throbbing cock shoved
deep up into the moist warmth of her tremulant pussy.

Her whimpers and moans of pain came with less frequency as he commenced
a slow, undulantly grinding movement of his pelvis that insinuated his
prick even more tightly into her naked loins, expanding and stretching
the resilient walls of her vaginal sheath more and more, until her
agonized groans of pain became mewls of forbidden pleasure, humming in
her throat, and she couldn't control them; they just came from her
unbidden ... and unwanted.

And ... she was suddenly on fire with forbidden passion. Uncontrollably,
her hips began to move under him, grinding in tiny tight circles up
against him, countering him in perfect rhythmic thrusts.

She's ready to beg for it, now! Gabe smiled a lewd smile of triumph, as
he levered himself up on his arms, above her. He pulled his hardened
prick out of her now gently clasping channel until only the throbbing
tip, blood-engorged and bulbous, remained between the fleshy folds of
her softly hairlined cunt. Hungrily, her loins followed, attempting to
regain it ... but he wouldn't allow it; he kept the great cockhead
there, immobile, in the warm elastic lips of her demanding vaginal
canal.

Charity flailed her head from side to side in frustration and
humiliation, feeling both, strongly, as she whimpered up at him, her
legs widespread, expectantly, beneath him.

"Beg!" he snapped. "Your brother and his friend must have taught you the
words ... didn't they?" He expanded the lust- inflated cockhead, again,
just inside, against the sensation-hungry walls of her cuntal passage.

She purled mewlingly in ecstasy, under him. She couldn't help it, now.
Every fiber in her being rejected it; she didn't want to say it, but,
again, she was being forced to do it, against her will .... forced to
say obscene words, if she were to get what she now desperately wanted.
She had to have it ... and there was nothing she could do except beg!

"F-Fuck me!" she spat up at him. "Oh, God ... how I-I need it! I w-want
you t-to fuck me ... now! P-Please?" Her words rasped out at him between
tightly clenched jaws. It was the final humiliation. There was nothing
left to her, now ... only her perverse desire for that huge cock that
taunted at her inflamed, needful pussy.

"Where, damn it ... where do you want to be fucked?" he prodded,
demandingly.

"I-In my c-cunt!" she answered. She found it easier, now, and she went
on, "Fuck m-me in my cunt ... quick! I-I can't stand it any l-longer!"

"Get on with it!" he prompted. "With what?"

"Your cock! I-I want you t-to fuck me in the cunt w-with that big c-cock
of yours!" she said, completing the litany.

She shivered, then, with the ecstasy of the moment, as he began to rock
above her, thrusting into her with short, smoothly powerful strokes, and
her body began to respond of its own volition. Now, she knew that she
was totally involved. There was no more will to struggle against it; she
only wanted to surrender herself, totally, to the perverse, wanton
desires of her flesh, and when the thought of her unconditional
capitulation to her own stepfather-and what it meant-flashed through her
confused mind, it brought her further excitement, the summer electric
storm in her grounded in the close tight sheath where her mother's
husband's big cock pistoned in and out with rhythmic ferocity.

Faster and longer Gabe fucked it into her, and Charity's whole body
responded to the increased speed and depth of his strokes. She began to
squirm and writhe beneath him, as he lowered his lust- twisted mouth to
hers to engulf her lips in his. She pushed her tongue deep into his
throat to be sucked and nibbled, moaning, incessantly, now, up into his
face, her passion-crazed mind willing to accept anything he chose to do
to her. Her naked, sensate cunt ground up to him, matching the tempo of
his plunging cock, accepting all of his length and breadth deep up in
her seething, needful loins.

Charity's lovely young face was contorted with ecstatic desire, her eyes
glazed, nostrils flared and her breath came in panting rhythm with his
plungingly masterful cock.

Never, in her young life, had she known that such rapture could come to
her. She had never expected that from the manipulation of her genitals,
the licking and sucking of her then unwanting cunt to this very moment
with her stepfather's big cock pistoning into her sensation-filled
vagina, filling it completely, fulfilling her, that she would ever want
anything so much. It was absolutely marvelous ... and she forgot,
temporarily, that the man, above her, was the man she had considered her
father, until just three days ago.

Then, she discovered, as she moved in concert with him, slithering her
cunt up and down his thick, hardened member, that the sensations created
were more intense, more delicious ... more unbearably ecstatic, and she
realized she hadn't really known that lying beneath a man, his big cock
racing up her cunt, being fucked against her will, being raped, almost
-- until she had changed from not-wanting to wanting -- could possibly
be so pleasurable ... so utterly fantastic.

Another thought that came to her, it's insight lighting a candle of
understanding in her mind, was that she wanted to give pleasure in
return. She thought she hadn't wanted it at first, but this wonderful
thing had been given to her, against her will, initially, but now, it
was different. Now, she wanted to give herself to him ... in return.

"Don't s-stop fucking m-me ... Gabe ...!" she gasped into his face.

He lifted his mouth from hers and grunted, "It's all the way, now ...
Baby Doll!"

Reaching down between them, now, he slid a hand over her gyrating
buttocks, working smoothly beneath him, searching in the moist crease
between them for the defenseless, puckered circle of her rectum. He
dipped a finger in the viscous moisture that trickled down from the
cock-filled cunt lips above and ran it around the perimeter of the tiny,
brown opening before he placed the tip of it solidly against the rubbery
softness of her anus. He felt the shock of it in her body, heard her
sharp, quickly drawn breath as he pressed against the elastic, puckered
opening to gain an entrance there.

"I'm going to give you something to remember, now. My finger's going
right up your asshole ... as far as I can shove it!" he grunted.

This was it!

And somehow, she found his lewd words exciting. They inflamed her
passion further, for now, she wanted that, too! She wanted to be hurt
... until she screamed.

Suddenly, she was overcome with a delirious rapture of anticipation. He
didn't make her wait for it. Pushing hard, his finger went through the
barrier of elastic muscle and surged up into her, smoothly, all the way
to the palm of his hand. She screamed at the initial entrance, as his
finger speared into the sponginess of her unstretched rectum. Never had
she felt the delicious agony of such pleasure-pain before. It was,
somehow, more intense, her nerves more ready to respond, for in a very
few moments, she adjusted to the foreign presence in her backside,
trying to skewer herself, even deeper, on his long, middle finger. She
realized, dimly, that it was an insanely masochistic desire, but now,
she strained to absorb both torturing shafts into her wantonly ecstatic
belly.

Now, Gabe began to plunge in and out of her with increased speed,
feeling the bulge of his finger against the underside of his cock
clearly, in the thin, separating tissues, inciting the aching rod to
even faster and deeper thrusts into the tight, clasping sheath of her
cunt.

She writhed, wildly and uncontrollably, beneath him, her cunt nibbling
up and down his hardened shaft with ever-building fury, white, tapered
thighs jerking, splaying open and closed, toes curling and slaving
buttocks moving her anus on his finger in abject submission to his
double ravishment.

He couldn't wait any longer. Back behind his balls, he felt the building
well of sperm attempting to break through the dam of hardened penile
flesh. He began to pound into her with increased speed, depth and vigor,
popping his finger from her now wide- stretched rectum to concentrate on
his own driving need. Then, using both hands, he pressed her knees back,
cruelly, until they framed her face, mashing back against her mounding
young breasts until her whole genital plane was exposed and defenseless
against his pile-driving cock.

. Charity's lovely face was contorted with wantonly reckless passion.
She felt it coming to her, the dizzying heights of her orgasm poised on
the brink of supreme rapture, and she began to croon up into his face.

Slaving away above her, he stroked in and out of her, wildly, his
jackhammering pelvis rocking her down deep into the mattress .... and he
could feel the walls of her cunt clasping and unclasping around his
hardened length as he slammed his big, aching cock home with every
stroke, the ever-expanding, blood-engorged head flicking her womb as it
struck the far back wall of her vaginal glove with every surging plunge.

Then ... then, it was there ... for her!

It surged over her, drowning her in indescribable sensation. She tossed
her head, wildly, as convulsive waves of orgasm swept over her, and she
was transported, momentarily, on a cloud of vaporous euphoria and
limitless, deep-space rapture. As from a distance, across time and
space, she heard herself, repeating the ecstatic animallike cry of
satiated female, "OOoooOOOOH! IIIII'mmmmm cuuummmmiiinng!
AAAAAaaaaauuuuuggggghhh!"

Above her jerking body, her stepfather, battering into her naked,
upturned loins, cradled between her wide splayed legs, felt the surging
tremors rippling through her young pussy beneath him, even as he knew
that his own was beginning for him, deep in his expanding balls.

... And, suddenly, he was cumming, too, the viscous, hot sperm jetting
forcefully, in spurting founts of semen, from the lust- inflated tip of
his cock far up into the moist, wildly clasping confines of her open,
still hungrily sucking cuntal cavern.

"AAAuuugh! God ... Baby Doll ... that gorgeous cunt of yours .... is
milking my balls dry!" he panted; then, with an agonized groan, he
collapsed on top of her, his full weight pinning her, immobile, to the
mattress.

After long minutes, lying under him, muscles relaxing in stages into
final quiescence and complete sexual satisfaction, she was aware that
his long, slow breathing meant he was on the edge of sleep. She tried,
futilely, to wriggle free of his weight.

He roused himself, groggily, "Hey ... what ...?"

Charity pushed hard up against his heavy chest. "Let me up ...."

"Why ...? Stay here ... and rest for a little while ..."

"No ... Gabe ...!" she said, firmly. "You got what you wanted .... now I
w-want to get up!"

"All right ... later's okay for me ..." she lied. "Can I get up, now?"

"Yeah ... well, all right, but get your ass right back in here with me!"

Reluctantly, then, he rolled from her, his cock pulling from her with a
faint wet sucking noise. She raised herself to a sitting position and
noted that his lancing member of a few moments ago was now rapidly
deflating. Sliding across the bed, she swung her legs to the floor, and
with her hand clasping her cleft walked quickly, in her nakedness, into
the bathroom. She didn't look back at her stepfather, lying nude in the
middle of the big, double bed, for she had no intention of ever
returning to that room. She closed the door, firmly, behind her and shot
the bolt to lock him out of her life ... forever.

Chapter 13

A half-formed plan was in Charity's mind when she gained the temporary
sanctuary of the bathroom; it was a plan to make good her flight from
that house that was no longer a home. She had to act, decisively, on the
instant. There was no time to lose!

Turning on the taps, she refreshed herself, quickly; then, leaving the
water running and hoping the sound would cover her movements, she went
into her own bedroom, rummaged in the drawers for clean panties and bra
and put them on to cover her curvaceous nakedness.

In her closet, she found a long-neglected airline flight bag and stuffed
in extra underwear, a couple of blouses, a slip and a skirt. Not daring
to take time for packing more than that, she slipped on a pair of shoes
and tiptoed out of her room, across the dining room to the kitchen and
on out to the back porch to Donnie's little cubicle of a room.

She put the small canvas flight bag on his mussed bed and delved into
his closet. She found one of his shirts and a pair of blue jeans.
Putting them on, she shrugged the jeans over her swelling hips and found
they fit her rather tightly, but she was afraid to take more time to
look for a larger pair. Next, she found one of Donnie's old baseball
type hats and put it on, trying to tuck up her long, auburn hair to
confine it, somewhat. One of her brother's windbreakers completed her
outfit. A womanly glance in the mirror told her that she had not really
made a transformation. It had been a vague hope that she would be able
to disguise herself well enough to pass for a boy, but the swell of her
hips and buttocks inside the jeans and the tell-tale shape of
full-mounding breasts showing under the boy's shirt could not be hidden.
It would have to do, she decided, knowing that time wasted now could be
her undoing.

Her mind was clear, and she was alert and ready. Picking up the light
bag, she eased herself from Donnie's room, her ears attuned for any
sound within the old house. Good! He was still in the bedroom ...
hopefully, sound asleep, or merely lounging at ease, at least.

Nimbly, she slipped through the back door and ran, lightly across the
back yard toward the rear gate opening into the alley. Her heart pounded
with excitement. She was going to make it!

"CHARITY!"

It was Gabe! His commanding voice stopped her in her tracks. Oh, God ...
no!

She turned to face him, absolute dread in her. He stood at the back
door, still nude, his face contorted with anger.

"Where the hell are you going?" he demanded.

"I-I'm leaving ... for good!" she said and turning walked through the
gate into the alley, realizing that he could not possibly pursue her ...
naked.

"Come back here!" he yelled.

Charity kept walking. She didn't look back when she heard Gabe slam the
back door.

It was a little after 1:00 p.m. when she thumbed a ride downtown, and
from there walked out along the street designated as an interstate
highway through town. Soon, she was out of the congested area, and she
walked along, alert to the traffic, her thumb waving, asking, mutely,
for a ride, willing to take her chances with whomever she rode ... as
long as they were going East.

* * *

Jack had walked over to her booth, where she sat alone, and struck up an
inane conversation, both of them knowing it was a pick-up attempt. He
had not been wrong; she went with him willingly ... and she had been
great in bed. This was his second evening with her.

She fluffed a pillow for him and put it against the headboard while he
rummaged for a pack of cigarettes, lighting one for himself and offering
her one, too.

He drew smoke into his lungs and studied the glowing end of his
cigarette, thoughtfully, then he said, "Dottie ... I've been trying to
figure you out ... you're a damned beautiful woman ... all alone, here
in Phoenix ... playing the part of a hooker ... but there's something
about you ... you're not a real pro, at all. There's something domestic
about you ... like you ought of have a husband and kids ..."

Dottie's eyes glistened. It was strange, this man's insight into her,
his being able to look beyond the obvious, and she responded to it.

"I-I have two children ..." she murmured.

"Boys ...?"

"A boy ... a-and a g-girl ..."

"Husband ...?"

She was thoughtful for a moment, trying to judge just how much she
should tell this big, rangy stranger. Finally, she said, "He's basically
a g-good man ... but I-I ..."

"... But, what ...?" he prodded.

"H-He drinks ... and can't hold a j-job ..."

"... And, you've had to support him ... and the kids?"

"I ... I ran away ..." she confessed.

It was his turn to be thoughtful before answering, "Well ... I can see
you had quite a burden ... but why run away from it?"

Little by little, detail by sordid detail, he was able to draw the story
from her, asking questions, listening to her answers, trying to see
things from her point of view, but not making any comments. When her
recounting of all that happened up to the point of her leaving and
subsequent arrival in Phoenix was finished, he told her. "I can
understand most of it ... and I can sure see that you had had as much as
you could stand ... but there's one thing I think you made a mistake on
... you should have gathered up that young daughter of yours and taken
her with you ...!"

It was the brutal truth. She recognized it for that, and she was
immediately contrite, willing to admit that she was wrong. "Oh, God ...
you're right ... that was when she needed me the most .... wasn't it!"
She was clear-eyed and decisive, now.

Later, dressed and ready to leave her, there in her motel room, Jack
Leonard had made a decision to involve himself in Dottie's life. He
said, off-handedly, "I've got to make a run over to L.A., tomorrow ...
how'd set with you if I stopped by, on my way back ... and bring your
daughter back here to Phoenix with me ...?"

It was an answer to her unspoken prayers. "Oh, Jack ... would you ...? I
know it's the right thing ... now!"

"I'll need the address ... and your daughter's name. "Her name's Charity
... Charity Scott ... a-and ... here, let me write down the address for
you!" She was excited, almost girlish in her enthusiasm. "Maybe, I
should write a note to her ... explaining ...."

"All right ... it'll make it easier for me ..." he agreed. Sitting down,
he waited the few moments it took her to pen the short note.

Dottie gave him the envelope and an impulsive kiss. "Thank you ..." she
murmured.

As Jack left her, somehow, her kiss, when she gave him the envelope, was
more meaningful than the frantic ones of two hours before as she came to
full, sexual arousal under him. He couldn't have explained it ... but he
knew that that particular kiss was given to him, freely, by the real
woman -- a good woman, he knew, instinctively -- who resided,
simultaneously within the beautiful but life-used body of Dottie Scott.

* * *

He heaved himself, unsteadily, to his feet and staggered to the door.
Opening it he saw a tall, spare man standing on the porch. "Yeah ...?"
he asked, trying to focus his bleary eyes on the stranger.

"Mr. Scott ...?" Jack queried, amiably.

"Yeah ... what do y' want?"

"Actually, I want to speak with your daughter, Charity ..."

"She's not here ...!"

"Where could I get in touch with her?"

"How'n hell would I know ... she ran away ...!"

"Ran away from home ...?"

"Yeah ... I don't know what got into her ..." Gabe said, then, finally,
focusing on Jack, he asked, "who the hell are you ... asking all these
questions?"

"Just a friend of a friend ... passing through ... thought I'd stop by
and say hello ..." he evaded.

"Name ...?"

"I'm Jack Leonard ..." He stuck out his hand.

Gabe ignored him. "Sorry ... can't help you!" He started to close the
door.

Jack stopped the closure with a big hand, asking mildly, "How about your
son ... maybe he'd know where she is?"

"Donnie ...? He's in the hospital ... all shot up ... they took a .45
slug out of him!"

"No ... like I said, I'm a sort of a friend of a friend ... just passing
through Redfern ... that's all ..."

Jack Leonard turned to leave. "Thanks ..." he said, anxious to be gone,
trying to control an urge to slam a fist into Gabe's slack, drunken
face.

"Who's this friend of a friend ... you're talking about?"

The big man faced him again and said, "I don't think you'd know her ...
maybe you never did ... really know her!"

"Well ... what's her name ... damn it?"

"Dottie!" Jack Leonard said. "Dottie Scott!"

He walked, quickly, to his car at the curb, got in and drove away toward
the avenue.

Gabe came after him, shouting, "Dottie? Where the hell is she? WHERE IS
SHE?"

His voice was drowned out in the roar of the big car's engine. He
stumbled and fell, and could only watch as the car disappeared from
sight. "WHERE IS THAT BITCH?" he screamed.

* * *

"Was he smashed ... as usual?" Don asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid he was!"

"... And, you say Charity split?"

Jack grinned. "Yes ... Gabe said she ran away ..."

"That's great!" Don smiled. "I was afraid she wouldn't make it ... she
was really afraid he'd ..."

"Afraid ...? Of what ...?" Jack probed.

Don became serious. He asked, "You really want to help Charity ... and
mom?"

"Yes ... yes, I do ..."

"All right ... I'll lay it on you ... give it to you like it is!"

"Okay!"

"I was trying to get Charity away ... she was afraid our old man would
try to rape her ... that's why I tried that stupid robbery ... to get
some money, so's we could split! All she had was me ... and I fucked
up!"

"Do you know where she'd head for?"

"East! I told her to head for New Mexico!" Don told him.

"Why?" Jack wanted to know.

"L.A. and San Francisco are no place to be on the street, right now!
Where it is is the communes ... and New Mexico's the best!" Don said.

"Would she do it because you told her to?"

"I think so!"

"It's not much to go on, but I'll try!" Jack told the boy.

* * *

"Hop in ... if you want a ride we're going through New Mexico ...." he
said, with a disarming smile.

"Well ... I-I don't know ..." Charity said, doubting the wisdom of
accepting a ride in a truck ... with two drivers. "... I-I was trying to
catch a r-ride ... in a car ..."

She had been trying for over an hour and a half to thumb a ride, but the
motoring public -- especially travelers -- she discovered was
apprehensive about picking up hitchhikers. Several cars had slowed down,
but the drivers had sped on, after looking her over, and she was,
rapidly, getting discouraged.

"People aren't picking up hitchhikers like they used to ... too many
things happening nowadays," he said, re-enforcing her own feelings;
then, "Good luck ..."

The driver shifted into gear and the truck began to move, the big diesel
engine developing an ear-splitting roar as the huge rig began to inch
forward.

"W-Wait!" Charity yelled.

The truck shuddered to a stop, and she noted that another truck, painted
the same bright blue had stopped just behind the first.

"You change your mind?" the co-driver asked, leaning out his window.

"Y-Yes ... I've got to have a ride ... even for a little ways .... maybe
you could let me off in Palm Springs ..."

"All right ... hop in here! Palm Springs it is!" he opened the door,
smiling down at her and offering her a hand to boost her up.

"Th-Thank you ... ever so much!"

Just before the door was opened for her, Charity read the sign on the
side of the cab: J. L. TRUCK LINES; Phoenix, Arizona; San Francisco, Los
Angeles, Phoenix, Albuquerque, El Paso, Dallas, Oklahoma City.

The caravan of two trucks stopped at a lunchstand catering to truckers
on the outskirts of Palm Springs.

"You hungry?" Pete asked her as the big freight rig came to a stop. "We
usually have pie and coffee about this time."

Charity was hungry; she had had very little breakfast and no lunch. She
had no money at all.

"Y-Yes ... I am feeling a l-little hungry ..." she admitted.

Pete escorted her into the small cafe, selecting a booth near the back.
They were joined in a few moments by Jeff, the driver of the truck she
was riding in and the two drivers from the second truck. Jeff introduced
them as Matt and Brad.

It was a congenial lunch, the men joking boisterously, and including her
in their conversation, making her feel a part of their group as they
touched on various subjects.

Charity was feeling completely at ease with the four men; not once had
they said or done anything untoward to give her an inkling of their
plans for her. As they pushed back empty plates and finished off second
cups of strong, black coffee, Jeff said to her, "It's sometimes hard to
get a ride out of Palm Springs ... you could get stuck here all night!
Why don't you just stick with us .... until we get to Phoenix, maybe
..."

She looked around at the circle of friendly faces. They all seemed to be
such open, friendly men, rather straightforward, somewhat rough,
perhaps, but certainly they were not men who would take advantage of a
young girl, alone; besides, Matt had said that he had a daughter near
Charity's age. Jeff, the oldest had mentioned, somewhat boastfully that
he had a two-year old grandson.

"We'd sure like to have you along," Jeff added, "to sort of help liven
things up a bit."

"All right ... I-I'll go with you, then ... as far as Phoenix ...."

"I've got to get our thermos bottles filled with hot coffee," Jeff said.
"I'll be right with you." He excused himself and went to the truck for
the thermoses.

Pete and the other two men, trailed by Charity, trooped out to the
trucks where they busied themselves checking over the big rigs to make
sure everything was functioning correctly and safely.

"We have to do this every time we stop," Pete told her.

"Why is that?" she asked trying to show an interest in his work.

"Safety regulations ... we have to be sure everything's all right;
otherwise, we can't operate on the highways."

"That sounds like a good thing ..." she observed.

"Yeah ... we never know when they'll inspect us ..."

"I see ..." she said, inanely, wishing now that they were moving, again,
putting more miles between her and Redfern, California.

Jeff returned with the freshly filled thermos bottles, swung up into the
right-hand seat and gave Charity a hand-up to the high cab. He leaned
out and told Pete: "You go ahead and take over herding this rig for a
while!"

"Okay!" Pete climbed into the driver's seat, started the powerful
diesel, clutched it into gear and moved out on the highway, shifting
smoothly through the numerous gears.

After an hour or so, Jeff poured steaming coffee for them. He and Pete
had their coffee black, but Jeff poured hers from the other container.
"I noticed you used cream and sugar, so I had this one fixed up special
for you," Jeff told her. "Hope you like it."

Charity accepted the creamy, sweet coffee, gratefully. "I don't see how
you can drink it black, like that ... it always seems so bitter."

Later, after a second cup, she yawned, deeply, and confessed that she
felt terribly sleepy.

"Well, just crawl on back there in the sleeper where you can stretch
out," Jeff said.

"Thank you ... I will ..." She clambered up into the almost coffinlike
box behind the seat and laid down, feeling more drowsy every moment.

She was in a twilight state of semiconsciousness. The drone of the
voices of the two men in the cab was muted, drowned, partially, in the
roar of the mighty engine as it ground along, pulling a long grade.

"How much ... give her ... in that ... coffee?" Pete.

Their voices cut in and out. She yawned.

"Enough ... sleep ... until we get to ... Salome ..." Jeff's voice.

"... Hurt her ... will it?"

She was missing whole words and sentences, now. It was terribly hard to
concentrate. They seemed to be talking about her. Something in the
coffee? Sleep ...? Her eyes closed. She couldn't keep them open.

"Last one ... we had ... one hell of a lot of ... fun ..." Jeff, again.

Her regular breathing told the two men in the truck cab that she was
sound asleep ... knocked out ... drugged!

Jeff looked back at her and reported, "She's out like a light! Damn! I
can hardly wait!"

"We'll have to ... now!" Pete reminded.

"Yeah, I know ... Remember, now ... she's supposed to be your wife!"

"No sweat!" Pete said, grinning lewdly. "I'd sure as hell rather crawl
into bed with her than with the old bat I'm married to!"

"She's damned nice!" Jeff agreed.

He leaned into the sleeping compartment and fumbled with the buttons of
her shirt, opening it halfway to her waist; then he slid his hand inside
to fondle her breasts. "Damn!" he breathed. "Young and tender ... just
the way I like them!"

Down below, his penis jerked to attention and bulged out in his pants.
Christ! She's a gorgeous looking little piece of tail!"

"No free samples, yet!" Pete kidded.

Jeff turned back to face the road. "Just a little preview, is all!"

The two-truck caravan rumbled through Blythe. Since their cargo was not
produce, there was no entomological inspection by Arizona Agricultural
Inspectors, but they were waved into a truck weigh station several miles
further on down the highway.

A Highway Patrolman, a member of the weighing team asked about the woman
sleeping in the sleeper.

"My wife ..." Pete lied easily. "She conked out on us ... said she
wasn't feeling too good ..."

"What seems to be wrong?"

"She's about six weeks along ... and her stomach's kind of squeamish!"
He laughed. "You know how it is ...?"

"Pregnant ...?"

Pete grinned, lewdly, "Knocked-up solid!" he said.

"Well ... just let her sleep, then ... we won't bother her," the
patrolman said, agreeing, tacitly, to bend the regulations, slightly.

Vaguely, Charity was aware that they had stopped. She had to get out of
there! Her muscles wouldn't respond. Call out for help! Dear God! I-I
need someone ... anyone ... t-to help me! She couldn't form the words to
call out! She was absolutely helpless.

Then, they were moving, again, and the hypnotic roar of the engine, the
whine of the tires and the gently rocking motion of the truck as it sped
down the highway, combined with the drug in her bloodstream to keep her
fast asleep.

She was not aware that the trucks stopped one more time in a turn-out at
the side of the road while the four men conferred.

Jeff told them, "We've still got to have a good reason for stopping ...
otherwise the boss'll be on our backs!"

"All right, but what?" Brad asked.

"A tire's easiest ..." Jeff said. "Just let the air out of one of the
inside duals ... it'll take at least two hours to get it off and back
on!"

"Where ...?" Pete queried.

"Salome ... We'll check into a motel, then bring her in!"

Chapter 15

Charity awoke, groggily, to find herself lying on a bed. The ceiling
swam into focus, first, then gradually, the room began to take on
substance and outline; finally, she could assess what her senses told
her: She was nude on the bed. The four men, drivers and co-drivers of
the two trucks were in the room with her. Jeff sat on the edge of the
bed, nearest her, a glass in his hand, smiling, lewdly, down at her
nakedness. Brad sat on the foot of the bed smoking a cigarette. Lounging
at ease, just taking a long draught from his glass, Pete sat in a gaily
upholstered chair. Matt sat on a straight chair leaned back against the
wall.

"She's waking up!" Jeff warned.

"Christ! It's about time!" Matt commented.

Her eyes fluttered open wide, then, and she looked around the room,
alarm and fear surging through her. All four men were watching her,
avidly.

She struggled to sit up. "Wh-What ...?" she managed, a scream rising to
her throat.

Jeff's hand went tight over her mouth. He hissed down at her. "Not a
peep out of you!"

Rolling her head from side to side, she tried to escape his restraining
hand; then, as she tried to use her hands to tug his hand away from her
mouth, her wrists were seized in dual, stronghanded imprisonment.

"Hold her, tight!" Jeff grunted.

Charity heaved up against him, lashing out with a knee at the same time.
Likewise, now, her ankles were grabbed and held in strong hands. She lay
spread-eagle, held immobile by four men, Jeff's hand still clapped,
tightly, over her mouth.

"Now, you little bitch!" Jeff panted. "We're not going to hurt you ...
unless we have to! We're just going to have us a little gang fuck ...
with you!"

She tried vainly to escape their tight handholds on her.

Jeff went on, "No use to try to get away! Now, all you have to do is
cooperate! Make up your mind to that ... and you'll be all right! You
know what we want!?"

Charity stared in disbelief up at him, her eyes pleading for mercy. My
God! F-Four of them!

"You understand what I'm saying?"

Her head wagged in the affirmative, and he added, "All four of us are
going to gang fuck you ... one way or another ... and whether you
cooperate or not!"

Desperately, she thrashed arms, legs and head, in another futile attempt
to gain her freedom. They held her tight and let her struggle against
them for several moments.

"Goddamn ... we'll have to tie her and gag her!" she heard Matt say who
was holding one of her legs.

"Okay! Bitch! You asked for it! Tie her up ... and get something to gag
her with!" Jeff ordered.

Pete's voice, now, louder than the others, gained their attention,
"Christ! Fucking a woman that's tied up isn't much fun! You don't know
yet whether she'll cooperate or not ... ask her ... then let her answer!
She can't answer with your hand over her mouth!"

"Okay ... go ahead, smart-ass ... ask her, yourself!" Jeff grunted.

"Listen, Doll," Pete said, close to her ear, "you know what's going to
happen to you, one way or another, don't you?"

Charity shook her head up and down, tears glistening in her eyes. She
knew! The prospect frightened her, beyond all reason, but she didn't
want to be tied up. That was even worse!

He went on, "If we don't tie you up ... will you play ball with us ...
don't yell ... or try to make a break for it!

It was a minuscule alternative. No matter what she did, what she agreed
to do ... or not do, she was going to be subjected to the sexual desires
of all four of them ... at the same time! My God ... how could I ever do
it? Four men ... at the same time ... i-it would k-kill me! Then, one of
the men -- it must have been Matt, she decided -- ran his hand, gently
and sinuously up her thighs, and, unerringly, drew a moist finger
through the coral furrow of her loins, parting the lightly curling,
auburn pubic hair to find the softly pulsing bud of her clitoris. The
sensuous contact caused her to jerk her hips away and writhe them down
into the soft mattress. Unwanted sex thrills flashed through her,
instantly, and she knew the answer she must give. Her head moved up and
down in the affirmative. If it has to happen, anyway ... I don't want to
be t-tied up and g-gagged ...

"Take your hand off her mouth!" Pete told Jeff.

Her mouth was freed. She licked her lips and looked up at the circle of
faces above her. It was then she discovered that they had prepared for
this; the bed had been dismantled and the mattress lay directly on the
floor.

"You do understand the conditions, don't you?" Pete asked.

"Y-Yes ..." Her voice was dull.

"You want a drink ...?" Brad asked, pushing a water glass under her
nose.

"P-Please ... I-I would like to have some water ..."

"I'm talking about whiskey ..." Brad said.

Whiskey! Perhaps it would help ... at least it might dull things a
little for her.

"All right ... I'll have a drink!" Charity said with decision.

"It'll help ..." It was Brad, again; he put an arm under her shoulders
and lifted her to a sitting position. Thrusting the glass into her hand,
he slopped cheap bourbon into it. "Sorry ... no mixer ... no ice ...
just drink it neat!"

She sipped. The fiery liquid burned her throat, and she made a wry face.
"UUugh!"

"Come on ... drink it down!" Jeff snapped. He took the glass from her,
placed it to her lips and tilted it. "Drink it!" he commanded. The raw
liquor spilled down her throat, and he would not allow her to stop
drinking until the glass was empty.

Charity gasped for breath. It seemed as though her whole insides were
seared, and the warmth was beginning to spread through her whole body.

"Ugh! That's h-horrible stuff!"

Pete moved in behind her, his hands going around, under her arms, to
capture the fullness of a youthful breast in each callused palm.
Purposefully, he kneaded and massaged the soft, smoothness of them, the
satiny skin sliding through his hands sensuously. Then, she felt the
hairiness of his chest pressed up against her back ... and lower down,
the hard warmth of his erect penis brushed the small of her back. He was
naked! She decided that he must have been undressing while the whiskey
was being forced down her .... and now, he was squatting or kneeling
behind her, fondling her breasts, with his cock, already hardened,
shoved up against her warm flesh. She shuddered. It had begun!

Shakily, she asked, "C-Can I-I have another one ... before you do it to
me?"

"Okay ..." Jeff said, dubiously, "but we don't want you to get too
swacked to shake that hot little ass of yours, baby!"

The glass was put into her hand, again, an inch of bourbon in it. She
raised it to her lips and took a large gulp.

Charity looked down at him where he sat, near her feet, his hands busy
moving up and down the smooth, soft columns of her thighs. She said,
"I-I need s-something strong ..."

They watched her as she drank, sipping now, and letting the searing
liquid slide down her throat. She hated it ... but she wanted to be
completely numb. When she finished the last drop, Jeff took the glass
from her hand; Pete, behind her, laid her down on the soft mattress and
slithered down beside her. Instantly, he sought for and captured her
mouth with his, his tongue bursting through her lips to slide deeply
into her throat. Strangely, and perhaps because of the helplessness of
her position, she found herself responding to him, her own tongue
lashing out to joust with his. One of his hands caressed her
full-mounding breast, rolling the pink bud of her nipple between his
fingers until it speared out hard, the areola puckering up at its base.

Then, Brad, who had rapidly stripped himself naked, stretched out on the
other side of her, his warm body snuggling close, and she felt the hard
rod of his prick press up tight against her smooth, white thigh. It
seemed to be the twin, massive and long, of Pete's whose hardened cock
pressed hard against the other thigh. Now, Brad's mouth was on her other
breast, sucking and nibbling, voraciously, drawing the nipple and the
areola completely into his mouth.

The liquor in her bloodstream began to spread its warmth through her
body, the searing heat of it seeming to concentrate in her loins where
tiny, tingling thrills of unwanted sexual excitation had begun to play a
game of erotic leapfrog. An uncontrollable moan escaped her lips. She
had to face the inevitable: Even though she was being subjected to these
rapacious outrages against her body, she was helpless to stop them, in
the first place, and in the second instance, she was responding to them,
against her will. She had hoped that the alcohol would numb her to the
point where she could go through with it ... but not be a part of it. It
was hopeless. Her body was responding just as it had with Gabe ... and
with her brother and his friend, Ray Donahue.

Matt's voice came to her, from a distance; she looked up to see him,
standing near her feet, stepping out of his pants. His erection lanced
out through the fly of his shorts. He stripped them off, and his
lust-inflated member stood out at an acute angle from his hairy loins,
the sperm-filled scrotum swinging, heavily, below. "Christ ... I've got
to get my mouth on that sweet little cunt!" he grunted, dropping to his
knees.

Then, she watched, horrified, as he pulled her knees up, flexing them,
his hands going down her soft, inner thighs, forcing them to splay
apart. Briefly, she resisted him, trying to keep her knees together, but
he growled, "Goddamn it! Open your legs, bitch! If I have to ..."

He didn't have to finish his threat. Charity knew -- although she had
not been mistreated, yet -- that if she did resist, they would not
hesitate to beat her, unmercifully. It was there in their powerful,
hulking bodies ... and in the fact they had carried out their planned
rape ... drugging her and bringing her to this motel room. She had no
idea of where she was. The thing uppermost in her mind was to do what
she must, without risking the possibility of being hurt, seriously. She
allowed her legs, then, to be spread apart, slowly, and she heard his
gasp and the wash of his warm breath over the sensitive flesh of her now
widely exposed vaginal slit.

She could feel the moisture as it gathered there, exuding from the
nearly aroused walls of her softly palpitating cunt. Then, his long, wet
tongue taunted at the opening, at the tiny bearded mouth of her passage,
for a long moment before he plunged it into her searing depths. Wildly,
he moved it in and out, duplicating the motion of Pete's tongue in her
mouth. She moaned, involuntarily, and sucked on the long lingual member
that raced in and out of her throat so hungrily.

Shifting upward, then, Matt's lips nibbled their way through the
searing, coraline flesh to find the tiny, erect miniature phallus,
hiding in its folds of flesh, the sparse, pubic hair parting as his
tongue pressured into it, tantalizingly.

Both Pete and Brad could feel the deep shock of it in her. The sparking
are was grounded in her sensitive loins, the surge of it causing her to
writhe her buttocks down and away from the erotic, super-charged
sensations. In an instant, unconsciously, uncontrollably, her now fully
aroused cunt moved, undulantly, up to Matt's plundering mouth.

"Oh ... OOoohh ... OOOooohhh!" she moaned into Pete's mouth.

Exquisite sensations multiplied themselves in her, and she could do
nothing to stop them. The alcohol she had absorbed had not deadened the
nerve ends of her body to them; if anything, she was more alive to their
manipulations. She savored Pete's tongue in her mouth and his hand that
roamed over her body, returning always to a breast, fondling and
caressing it, the taut, smooth roundness of it satiny in his hand, the
nipple spoked out pertly into his palm.

At the other breast, Brad still nibbled and sucked, unceasingly, at that
nipple, his hand, too, smoothing down across her flat belly to caress
the lesser mound just above Matt's licking, sucking mouth.

... And, now, Matt took the throbbing, erectile clitoris into his teeth,
holding it, lightly, while his tongue danced in a circle directly on the
tiny head of her throbbingly alive female bud.

The sensations generated in her aroused body was almost more than she
could stand. Her naked, exposed genitals rose up to the tantalizing
mouth, and she groped with both hands down to the center of her sexual
being, searching for and finding Matt's head. She took hold of his hair
and pulled his face tight up to her needful, sensation-filled cunt.

"Oh, Godddd!" she breathed into Pete's mouth.

"Okay, Matt! That's enough of that fancy stuff! It's time to do some
plain ole fucking!" It was Jeff's voice.

Suddenly, Matt's mouth was jerked away from her seething loins. She
looked down to see that Jeff had pulled him roughly away, and he now
knelt between her widespread thighs, his hand grasping his huge,
lust-inflated cock. She watched mesmerized as he drew the foreskin back
to reveal the knob of its head, satiny smooth and fiery red, ready for
action. She could see the clear viscous tear of moisture wetting its
tip.

"You ready to be fucked?"

Charity hesitated for a moment, not answering. She was not going to beg
in humiliation as she had with Gabe. The memory of it searing her once
more.

"I-I don't have a choice ... d-do I ...?" she moaned in abject
acceptance.

"No! You sure as hell don't!" Jeff snapped and dropped his weight on
her, his pelvis cradled between her open legs, but his upper body
supported on brawny, work-hardened arms. On either side, Brad and Pete
moved away, slightly, making room for Jeff as he guided his hardened
cock into her with no further preliminary.

The blood-engorged cockhead entered her tender, warmly wet young pussy,
and Jeff forced it all the way in with one forceful lunge, using all of
his strength to shove his huge, tumescent rod deep into her quivering
belly. The defensively lubricated sheath of her cuntal passage was
clenched, the massive head pushing waves of her tight, vaginal walls
ahead of it. It felt to her like a great, unpeeled log being shoved into
her without mercy.

She screamed aloud with the sudden stretching pain. Every ridge of his
hardened cock was evident to her, as he slammed into her, his pubic bone
crashing into hers and his balls slapped up tight and hard into her
naked, upturned buttocks.

Then, like an insane, unthinking automaton, he began to fuck in and out
of her, completely oblivious of her groans of pain. He pulled almost all
the way out, only to plunge back in, again, with punishing force. Faster
and deeper he drove it into her, interested only in achieving his own
satisfaction. She began to lubricate more after a few moments, and it
became more bearable; however, there was nothing she could do. She
couldn't move with him or against him. All she could do was lie there,
on her back, and accept his buffeting cock into her young and tender
cuntal passage that protested, painfully with each slamming stroke.

She could never have explained it, but suddenly, she began to feel it,
herself; his pummeling cudgel wasn't hurting as much. The abraded
passage adjusted to his vicious pounding, and before she knew it, she
was fully aroused and wanting it.

Her hips began to move, countering his pile-driving thrusting hips,
undulating them up to him, wantonly, as she took his massive cock deep
up into her vaginal tunnel.

I didn't want it this way!

Suddenly, she knew that Jeff was driving for his ejaculation. He panted
and groaned on top of her, his lustful prick soaring in and out like a
runaway steam engine.

Jeff felt it, too. Then, it was there. He drove his cock deep in her
gently clasping pussy, his balls slapping up against her full, white
buttocks ... and held himself there, unmoving, while his lewd, hot sperm
hosed through him to splash, forcefully, against the back wall of her
womb.

"AAAuuughh! Chriiiiiist!" he exploded.

Desperately, she bucked up against him, wanting him to continue, but his
rapidly deflating penis could not function, now. He would have to have a
period of rest. His frantic plungings into her had only served to arouse
her, fully.

* * *

Many of these people knew him from long association.

One counterman told him, "Well Jack ... I saw a girl who looked a little
bit like that, but she was dressed in boy's clothes. She was in here
with some of your drivers ..."

"You sure they were my men?"

"Hell! Jack ... I know your rigs when I see them!"

"All right ... thanks ..." he said, making sure to leave a dollar tip
tucked under the saucer of his half-full coffee cup.

It was little enough to go on, but he decided it might be worthwhile to
check some of his own trucks as he saw them along the highway. Let me
see ... there should be four or five East-bound rigs, today ... Two from
San Francisco ... and three out of Los Angeles ... and those two from
'Frisco are running together! That accounts for the counterman saying
SOME of my drivers ... and knowing my RIGS. Let's see ... who'd they be
... Jeff Riggs and Peter Dolan ... and the other one's Bradley Dawson
and Matt Richardson ...

Mentally, he pinpointed the two trucks he would be watching for, hoping
that by some wild coincidence he might be able to find Dottie's daughter
for her. He knew she would be pleased ... and somehow, for longer than
he wanted to remember, he felt like pleasing a woman. The memory of
Dottie was strong in him. Then .... he caught himself up short: What in
hell am I doing ... mooning over her? I swore Id never give another
woman a chance to get at me ... inside of me, where I live! Come off it!
She's just another cunt!

* * *

"OOOooooh! "she moaned. "Keep going! Keep fucking my cunt!" She groaned
it out, spontaneously, from the core of her very being, and she couldn't
believe that she had said it.

"Get the hell off of her, Jeff ... and let a real man fuck her! You
heard what she said!" It was Brad lying beside her. He scrambled up and
gave Jeff a shove, rolling the older man to one side.

Brad came to kneel between her wide-splayed thighs and looked down at
her young, now overheated pussy. Uncontrollably, her hips undulated her
loins up to him, and she heard herself murmur, "Oh, Pete! Fuck me ...!
P-Please ...?!"

"She's really wanting to be fucked, now!" Matt chortled. "Let's get her
up ass-backward ... so she can handle more than one at a time!"

Charity felt herself being turned over, her hips hauled up until she was
on her knees, her round, full-sculpted buttocks upturned nakedly in the
air behind her, as she rested on her elbows.

Kneeling behind her, Brad used his hands to spread her defensively
clenching buttocks wide, then guided his steel-hard rod of flesh
straight into her wildly clasping cuntal sheath. He flicked his hips and
drove his aching cock deep up into her already sperm-filled depths. She
gasped, as she realized the size of him. He was larger by far than Jeff
who had just shot his alien cum up into her unsatiated cunt.

"My God! I-It's too big!" she wailed.

Several times, he worked it in and out of her, and she adjusted to its
monstrous size. Then, as he began to fuck into her smoothly from behind,
the wild sensations returned, again, to her, and she ground her naked
buttocks back against the hair of his groin, counterpointing his virile
thrusts, his huge cock soaring deep up into her belly, the
blood-engorged head lodging with every stroke at the extreme capacity of
her cuntal passage.

At the time, she felt it was the most natural thing in the world to take
Pete's long, straight and thin cock into her mouth when she felt it
brush her lips. He lay sideways in front of her, his hardened member
lancing straight out at her side-turned face.

"Here, Doll ... suck on my cock!" he ordered.

Automatically, unthinking, responding only to the erotic stimulus, she
opened her mouth and took the satiny, blood-filled head of Pete's prick
between her lips, ovaling them over it, her tongue beginning to lave it
in hungry little swirls around the corona; then she tried to push the
tip of her tongue into the tiny slit, and she felt the shock of the
sensations it caused him, as the long member jerked and throbbed in her
mouth. Gradually, he began to push up against her, flexing his hips to
force the long, hardened cock deeper into her mouth .. , and into her
throat. She accepted it; almost all of it but a little stretch was now
absorbed into her tiny mouth and deep into her throat.

"Damn it!" she heard Matt growl. "I've got to get some of that tight,
little cunt, too!"

"Wait your turn!" Brad snapped.

"Hell no! I've waited too long, already! Anyway, we can both take her
... at the same time!" Matt insisted.

"How ...?"

"Easy! One of us in her cunt ... the other one in her ass!"

Charity wanted to cry out in protest at the lewd suggestion, but she
couldn't. Her mouth was filled with Pete's throbbing cock which he now
fucked in and out wildly, as she hollowed her cheeks sucking voraciously
on it. Dear God! Th-That's inhuman ... impossible! They c-can't do THAT
t-to me!

Then, she felt Matt's hands, cupping smoothing and caressing the rounded
orbs of her buttocks, his hands sliding down between Brad's flexing
pelvis that pistoned his big cock in her and her own quivering,
clenching behind. One of his fingers delved into the crease, searching
for her palpitant rear entry. He found the puckering, brown, nether
entrance and pushed at it, experimentally, the tip of his finger going
into her past the tiny clenching muscle barrier. Having found the route,
he shoved hard, his finger moving into the soft, spongy flesh of her
anus. Charity screamed, inwardly, her throat working, but no sound
escaping her around the huge cock fucking up into her throat and mouth.

For a few moments, he sawed his finger in and out of her resisting back
passage, in time to the thundering cock of the one called Brad, behind
her. He added a second finger, thrusting both into her tortured anus,
brutally.

Heaving herself up on her hands, kneeling now on all fours, she was able
to clear her mouth of Pete's long, hard penis. She screamed.
"OOOoooooohhhhh! Gooooddddd! D-Don't!"

CRACK!

Jeff slapped a naked buttock. He gritted, "Shut up, bitch! We warned you
not to scream!"

"If you don't ... you soon will! You're just about stretched enough,
now!" Matt went on. Then, to Brad: "Shove your cock in her hairless
little asshole, now ... and I'll guarantee you there's nothing hotter or
tighter in the whole world!"

He pulled his fingers from her searing back passage. The one called Brad
slipped out of her wildly clasping cunt and placed the tip of his
rock-hard cock at the tiny, cringing anal mouth, and Matt used both
hands to pull her buttocks far apart to expose her completely to this
unnatural ravishment.

"Come on ... shove it in her!" Matt snapped.

The man behind her flexed his hips, forcefully popping the head of his
tumescent member an inch into the warm sponginess of her backside. She
began to moan loudly, but Jeff was there, instantly, to clap a hand over
her mouth. "Not another peep!" the older man ground out close to her
ear.

Brad pushed harder into the smooth rubbery flesh. It went in another
inch. She felt as if a red-hot forging were being shoved into her back
between her open buttocks.

"Ram it all the way up her!" Matt hissed, his eyes bulging at the sight
of his friends hardened cock sunk into the young teen- ager's ovally
stretched rectal mouth. Then, with superhuman effort, sweat popping out
on his brow, the exquisite pleasure-pain almost too much for him, Brad
strained, using all the strength of his back and legs ... and drove his
massive, blood-en gorged cock all the way into her tightly resisting
little rectum with one prodigious effort.

The pain of it was more than she could bear. Her vision dimmed; there
was a roaring in her ears ... and she screamed and screamed,
soundlessly, into the one called Jeff's restraining hand.

She felt the great presence, in her rear passage, expand involuntarily
several times, and to her amazement, she began to adjust to it, as he
moved it, experimentally, in her.

"Now, turn her over!" Matt grunted.

Brad wrapped his muscular arms around her, tightly, and rolled to his
side, she following; then, he squirmed over onto his back, heaving her
up to lie on his stomach, his hardened cock still sunk far up inside her
wide-stretched rectal passage.

Now, the one called Matt knelt in between their legs and pulled her
knees up, slightly, splaying the tapered white columns of her thighs
wide. He guided his cock right into her, without preparation, and drove
it deeply home in the palpitating coral flesh of her young and tender
cuntal passage.

Moaning with both the pain and the pleasure of it, she flailed her head,
tossing her auburn hair about her contorted face. Jeff, realizing that
she was adjusting to the two massive male cocks sunk deep in her loins,
and would probably not cry out again said, "I'm going to uncover your
mouth, now ... but you'll have to promise to be quiet ... okay?"

She nodded her head in agreement. God! T-Two of them up inside me at the
same time. I-It feels l-like they're t-tearing me apart!

Above her, Matt began to fuck in and out of her, her sensate vaginal
passage exploding with sensation. Little by little, she ground up to
meet him the reverse movement, driving Brad's huge, lust-throbbing penis
deep into her tightly locked anal passage.

... And ... after a few moments, the rapture that came to her was
immeasurable, as she began to move with abandoned wantoness, accepting
the double ravishment of her loins in joyous ecstasy.

The one named Pete knelt, then, crossways over her, his aching cock
throbbing just over her face. She opened her lips to take it, hungrily,
into her mouth, sucking wildly on it, as he began to move in rhythm with
the other two men, the one called Matt, above her, surging into her
cunt, the one called Brad, below, flexing his hips up to move, smoothly,
into her throbbing anal passage.

Rested, partially, but stimulated, erotically, to full arousal, again,
Jeff could no longer stand merely to watch them; his hand went down to
his wildly pulsing cock, grasping it and stroking himself to hardened
readiness, then he moved close to the tangle of moving bodies, picked up
Charity's hand and guided it to his massively erect prick Curling her
tiny hand around his throbbing member, he moved her hand up and down the
great shaft to indicate his need to her.

Charity was filled with searingly erotic sensations, and she was,
literally, filled up with cock. There was nothing in her world, at that
moment in time, but cock. Matt fucking like a demon into her desperately
clasping cunt. Behind and under her, Brad fucked wildly in and out of
her hotly clasping rear passage, feeling as he did, the massive bulge of
Matt's huge cock, sliding in the sheath of her vagina, the separating
tissue feeling almost nonexistent between the two plundering cocks.

In her mouth, she had Pete's long, thin penis on which she sucked,
avidly, absorbing him deeply into her throat, and in her tiny fist, was
Jeff's huge pulsing shaft of flesh.

A concert of motion existed among them, point and counterpoint, the
rhythm and tempo increasing by degrees, the multiplicity of sensations
building almost beyond all endurance in her, until she knew she would
explode on the instant into surging orgasm. She began to cum ... and cum
... and cum, almost unendingly.

She couldn't scream it aloud. Suddenly, she realized that the expansion,
the wild throbbing of Pete's cock, in her mouth, heralded the beginning
of his climax. He came. The hot, white semen jetted from him, deep into
her throat, and she swallowed, automatically, to keep from gagging, the
flavor of him, she decided, was not unpleasant. Finally, with a gasp,
Pete pulled his deflating prick from her still sucking mouth and rolled
to his side with an audible groan of deep satisfaction.

Matt, cradled between her widespread thighs, slammed hard, long, strokes
into her ... and she began to cum for a second time.

Almost simultaneously, Matt and Brad began to spew their lewd, viscous
sperm into her. She could feel both wildly pumping cocks hotly filling
her intestines and belly as they jerked, involuntarily, Matt continuing
to move, slightly, as he ejaculated, Brad heaving up, lifting them both,
as he drove deep, his semen spurting into the confines of her
quiveringly sensate rectum.

Matt collapsed on top of her, but Jeff, wild with desire, would have
none of that. He unclasped her hand from his pulsingly ready prick and
prodded Matt, roughly. "Get your ass off of her!" he commanded pulling
Matt bodily away.

Instantly, Jeff was between her legs, his big cock slipping into her
cunt smoothly, to fuck her to yet another orgasm. This time, she almost
blacked out as she came ... and from a distance she heard her own voice,
unreal and screaming: "Come on ...! Fuck me! Haaaarrrd!
Haaaaarrrrrrdddddeeer! Fuck me! Oh, God! FUUUUCCCCKKKK MEEEEEE! OOoooh!
AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!"

For the second time, then Jeff spewed, explosively, his sperm hosing,
searingly, through him in great throbbing spurts.

"Oh ... Chriiiiiiiiist!" he squealed and collapsed on top of her.

It was several moments before any of them moved, as they lay there,
completely satiated, their pagan orgy finished.

Events happened almost too rapidly, then, for Charity to grasp. There
was a tall, rangy man, exuding authority who stood at the door of the
motel room, commenting, testily, on their sexual performance but taking
the four men to task for not performing their assigned work.

He handed each of the men their severance pay on the spot, telling them,
"There's a bus stop down the road!"

Jeff was belligerent for a moment. "The union grievance committee'll
hear about this!"

"All right ... you speak to the committee ... and I'll talk to the
police about kidnapping ... gang rape ... and sabotage of my trucks!
Take your choice!"

The four men filed out, silently, after they had dressed. None of them
gave Charity a backward glance. They were afraid to meet her eyes.

"All right, get dressed!" Jack told her, grumpily.

She went to sleep soon after he pulled the big car onto the highway.
Only two questions, she had asked as he put her in the car.

Charity awoke in a large, comfortable bed, her memory of getting into it
hazy in her mind. She swung her legs to the floor and padded, naked into
the hallway. It was a beautiful home, expensively furnished, but she had
no idea of who her benefactor was. She knew only his name: Jack Leonard.

She peeked into the living room. Jack saw her and came to her. "Sleeping
Beauty's finally awake, eh?"

"Yes ... wh-where am I ...?"

"My place ..."

"I-It's beautiful!" she gushed.

Then, impulsively, she was in his arms, her face tilted up for his kiss.
"Th-Thanks ..." she murmured, "for what you did ..."

"No need to talk about it!" Jack said, brusquely, trying to control his
emotions ... his rampant desires.

Pressing close to him, she felt the warm bulge at his loins and knew the
effect her young, luscious body was having on him.

Reluctantly, his arms went around her, his hands moving over her soft,
curvy figure. "Damn! You're a beautiful woman!" he said, meaning it.

"...And, y-you're quite a man ..." Charity said, allowing a hand to
wander to the bulge in his pants between them.

He found her mouth and his tongue lashed between her lips, against her
teeth. She took his questing tongue and sucked it, hungrily.

Then, in a few moments, she was back on the big, double bed, her legs
locked high up around his back, as he went into her, gently, at first,
then poundingly ... and she exploded under him in ecstatic orgasm, his
own spewing climax not far behind.

Afterward, he told her, "Charity ... I'm going to ..."

She broke in, "How do y-you know my name ... you didn't ask me .... and
I never told you ..."

"Your mother told me ..." he said.

"Mom? You know my mom ...? Where is she ...?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you. I'm going to take you to her ...
as soon as you get dressed!"

"That'll be wonderful ... I want t-to see her and ..."

"... Get things straightened out ...?" Jack supplied.

"Yes ... oh, yes ..."

"I hope it doesn't complicate things," Jack said, serious now, "but I'm
thinking of asking Dottie to marry me ... just as soon as she can get a
divorce ..."

Her reaction was enthusiastic. "That'd be j-just super!" she bubbled.
Then, thoughtfully, "Poor Donnie ... he'll probably have to go to
p-prison! Do you kn-know about Donnie?"

"Yes ... I saw him in the hospital ... and I've arranged for him to get
a good lawyer, already. Maybe we can beat them ... or get a minimum
sentence or probation. He doesn't have a record ... and this is a first
offense."

There was a dreamy light in her eyes. "... Then ... I-I ... we could
have a family ... again!"